


The Cyber Tavern: Multiverse Desperado - A JumpChain Fiction

by CosmicDesperado30



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Gen, Genderbending, Jumpchain - Freeform, POV First Person, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:20:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 106,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CosmicDesperado30/pseuds/CosmicDesperado30
Summary: The following self-insert Mass Effect AU was the beginning of my first dip into what had become known as JumpChain. Effectively a community-created Choose Your Own Adventure RPG, the idea of JumpChain was to quantify and apply numbers to ideas, powers, and abilities from different worlds, then figure out how you would "build" an OC and how they would "fix" things in the setting. It has exploded since then with its own internal mythology and rules, but the attitude of the prevailing community was to treat the idea of building such characters as just making RPG protagonists. Make this, take that, collect this character for help, blow up this, then win.And as a stupid guy back then I did enjoy the inherently nerdy prospect of seeing different characters and powers bash up against one another. But as I put thoughts to the page, I realized something that a lot of the community forgot: the human element. Ten years is a long time to spend in another universe, and a lot of things can happen that you can't just "meta" around.Hence, this relatively grounded story about someone thrown into a larger world where they don't have all the answers, get some things wrong, but ultimately remembers the reason why there is something worth fighting for in the world.Are there things that haven't aged well or don't work nearly as much? Of course. The clunky prologue is an artifact from when this was on my personal blog, but it still has crucial exposition. Also the Results Screen in the Epilogue was a case of me "Showing my Build" to various curious readers on Reddit. It's a shame since instead of seeing how creative and diverse I got with what resources I choose, it became yet another case of "optimization" which was something I was fighting against both in the format and in the very text.By itself, I say it is a bold experience where I learned to love Mass Effect even more as a setting, and got to know some of the characters even more.Thank you for reading!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Mass Effect Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The following self-insert Mass Effect AU was the beginning of my first dip into what had become known as JumpChain. Effectively a community-created Choose Your Own Adventure RPG, the idea of JumpChain was to quantify and apply numbers to ideas, powers, and abilities from different worlds, then figure out how you would "build" an OC and how they would "fix" things in the setting. It has exploded since then with its own internal mythology and rules, but the attitude of the prevailing community was to treat the idea of building such characters as just making RPG protagonists. Make this, take that, collect this character for help, blow up this, then win.
> 
> And as a stupid guy back then I did enjoy the inherently nerdy prospect of seeing different characters and powers bash up against one another. But as I put thoughts to the page, I realized something that a lot of the community forgot: the human element. Ten years is a long time to spend in another universe, and a lot of things can happen that you can't just "meta" around.
> 
> Hence, this relatively grounded story about someone thrown into a larger world where they don't have all the answers, get some things wrong, but ultimately remembers the reason why there is something worth fighting for in the world.
> 
> Are there things that haven't aged well or don't work nearly as much? Of course. The clunky prologue is an artifact from when this was on my personal blog, but it still has crucial exposition. Also the Results Screen in the Epilogue was a case of me "Showing my Build" to various curious readers on Reddit. It's a shame since instead of seeing how creative and diverse I got with what resources I choose, it became yet another case of "optimization" which was something I was fighting against both in the format and in the very text.
> 
> By itself, I say it is a bold experience where I learned to love Mass Effect even more as a setting, and got to know some of the characters even more.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Journey Through The Multiverse Begins

Prologue

The Cyber Tavern was empty, then again I'm the one to blame for that. What was once a haven for the oddballs of society, the ones I share kinship with, has become a ghost town. Paralyzed by the shock of the horrors surrounding us. Even the annoying ants had left.

I was tending to the bar, going through the rote actions of cleaning a glass for way too long, while eyeing a bottle of wide mouth bourbon. I told myself never again. Alcohol is the mind killer, and I do not want to lose what I hold so preciously close.

But the protests have begun. Information has become unreliable. People who I once saw as just heroes became complacent in the madness. Worse yet, my contacts have gone dark, meaning I couldn't even rely on my trade of game criticism and commentary without losing money.

It stared at me on the bar. Taunting me like a Faustian temptation. No one else will know. Drink up and enjoy the blissful numbness.

I finally put down the glass and picked up the bottle with my hand hovering over the stopper.

“You know that stuff will kill you right?”

I jumped a little and dropped the bottle of hooch. It clattered to the counter, the stopper popping loose and spelling the golden-brown poison. I reached below the counter and tried to sound as confident as I could.

“Who are you?” I asked, “ The Cyber Tavern is closed.”

“And yet here you are,” the stranger replied.

“You know it's dangerous around here right?”

“You know that you don't even have a gun under that counter?”

My heart jumped several beats. What the hell is going on? The stranger stepped into the light and revealed herself to be a woman. Six foot tall, leggy as hell, and rocked the kind of cheekbones that wouldn't be out of place on a strong-willed woman. She was wearing a simple black dress that flowed over every single inch of her perfect figure as effortlessly as a waterfall. In the most blunt terms, she was smoking hot. That made her suspicious.

“You better not be here to fool me there's attractive singles in my area.” I joked, trying to relieve the tension.

“What a mortal thing to do. Still, this form is the only thing I could think of that would make you listen to me.” She says, casually pouring a drink of vodka from the bar. Wait a minute, I don't recall having the bottle on the counter.

“Be a dear and hand me something to pair this with?” She said with a giggle.

I slapped the drink off the counter and got in her face, getting as angry as I could, projecting my frustrations into a righteous fury.

“Tell me why you're here before I throw you out!” I bellowed.

“You can call me Jump. Or Jump-chan if you like. And I am what you would call a God.” Jump responded, tilting her head in a cutesy-poo fashion. She then calmly pushed me out of her face. Strange how she got me to yield so fast.

“Oh lovely. What are you here for then Jump? Some angry rant about one of my pieces? Here to harass me about being political? Is it about my active Twitter use lately?”

“Oh heavens no. Truth is, I'm bored and I'd like to issue you a challenge. Consider it a wager if you will.” Jump explained, suddenly sipping on a perfectly mixed Shirley Temple that appeared out of the corner of my perception.

“How familiar are you with the multiverse?”

“Jump, I'm a high end nerd. Discussing and reveling in multiverses is my crack. What about it?”

“Well, it exists. Every world ever conceived from a creative mind, be it from a film, a book, or a video game. They all exist in all of their creative glory.”

“The powers, the settings, the characters? Everything?”

“Everything.”

I shook my head casually. Of course they exist, they helped me at parts of my life, that is real enough to me.

“So what is your challenge?”

“I am going to make you a Jumper. A Planeswalker if you will. The ability to travel to these worlds. And just to sweeten the deal, it shall be worlds that you have personal investment in. Places that...shall we say, shaped you?”

“That seems awfully generous for a challenge.”

“Well, here we come to the rules. Before each jump you will have some resources to assist you in that world. Abilities that are exclusive to that place. Let's say the ability to fly like Superman, or to run like The Flash if you joined the world of DC Comics. However, you must live in that world for ten years, participate in the struggles of that world and survive along with the heroes, villains, and citizens of that plane. Either as savior, or conqueror, or that guy on the street that sells oranges. It doesn't really matter to me. Don't worry, your body will be at a different age in the world that isn't your own.”

“What happens after a decade?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

“You are given a choice. You can simply choose to return home. To this watering hole and go back to your life as it was, with all of the wisdom, knowledge, and talents you have accumulated through your travels. Alternatively, you can choose to live in the world you spent a decade in. Life in this world will continue on as if you simply vanished, but you will be a permanent part of that world, for better and for worse. Finally, you simply Jump to another world, with all of the gifts and abilities you earned from before, so you may continue your quest.”

“A quest? That implies that there's an end goal for this whole thing. Cuz it sounds like you're giving me a blank check to become a demigod by going through multiple worlds like a superpower clearance sale.” I interject.

“Oh you are a sharp one. I like that. But yes, the consolation prize is getting different abilities, the prize is a place I have designated as an endgame universe. A world full of those that can challenge Gods. After you take as much time as you like, seriously take like three centuries I don't care, your final challenge will lie with spending a decade there. You will be a part of that world's greatest conflicts the entire time and no matter how great their might is, if you die you fail and are sent home. But if you survive the decade you must challenge that world's greatest hero and win.”

“And why would I want to go to those lengths? Demigodhood sounds pretty sweet already.” I query.

“How about Godhood?”

I take a step back and accidentally knock over some top shelf nanite gel.

“If you succeed, I shall grant you a Planeswalker Spark. This will allow you to travel the multiverse at will. Every life you lived will exist simultaneously, you can visit anywhere in the multiverse at will for as long as you like, and you can return home with all of this power and more.”

I pull up a chair and mull things over. A decade in a world to gain power, to make my own adventures, then the ability to rinse and repeat in multiple worlds to prepare for a throwdown with a grand hero with godhood as the prize. That just might be the greatest deal of my entire life. It's too good to be true.

“Alright, why are you doing this?” I ask, “There has to be a reason for this. Monkey's Paw? Lesson in humility? Some Never Meet Your Heroes nonsense?”

“I already told you. I'm bored, and it looks like you could use it. A little escapism can go a long way. Always so dry and analytical, why not live a little?”

“A decade is more than a little escapism, Jump.”

“Oh but there is the joy of this. Time will be still in this world. Win or lose, you will be back in about five seconds real time.”

I look around my empty tavern....

“So if I were to still do stuff here this would interfere with that-”

“In no way whatsoever.”

“Alright, Jump. You have yourself a deal. Any other rules that I should know about?”

“Oh just a few things. No matter the world's metaphysics about the afterlife or reincarnation, if you die in that world you will be thrown back home. No fighting your way out of Hell to continue the challenge.” Jump explains, suddenly in a cheesy devil costume, smiling coyly.

I roll my eyes, her trickster god act starting to wear thin. I motion her to go on.

“Alright. You also have some choices with how you enter your jump. But my mouth is getting a little dry,”  
“Can't you just will yourself a glass of water or something?”  
“Don't be a smartass. That's my job.” She snaps, drinking a glass of water fresh out of hammer space while handing me a piece of paper.

I quickly look over the paper, the rules for how I can stack my stays in my favor. Wait a minute...

“I can choose to have a history in the world I Jump to?”  
“Yep.”  
“But how will I remember who I am?”  
“You just will. But having a history will make people more trusting of you.”  
“And this whole section about my age and...gender will be randomized?”

“Either stay twenty six or stay a dude, up to you.”

“I'll take being a dude please.”

“Alright. Also take this,” says Jump, tossing me a normal looking key.

“What the heck is this?”

“The key to the Warehouse. Think of it as a storage shed for the stuff you'll collect.”

“And the key goes to what door?”

“Any door.”

“Like the Velvet Room?” I say, remembering the logic of a favorite JRPG.

“Sure, whatever. So ready to go?”

“Alright, beam me up, Scotty.”

I snap awake with a mild headache and shook myself out of my bed. The room was dark, save for a series of blinking red numbers on my right side. I reach over to hit the snooze button casually, only to have my hand go through the numbers. The lack of contact jolts me out of my sleep induced stupor. I pull off the sheets and get a better look at the clock. It isn't a clock; it's a hollow display. With the numbers 03:81.

Wait a minute, that can't be right. My eyes must be gunked together or something. I reach around in the dark, only to stumble to the floor. This isn't my bedroom.

“Dammit, where the hell is the light switch?”

A cool female voice croons from the ceiling, “Bedroom lights activated.” and the entire room is flush with color. Industrial metal floors? Pulp sci-fi décor with a hint of 21 Century Modernist influence? The fact that on a second glance the clock still reads 03:81? I shake my head in confusion and pull myself back to my feet, my slender blue arms pressing me up casually.

Oh hell no.

I dash towards the open bathroom door on my left side, it whooshing shut behind me. I take a seat on the U-bend and start taking some deep breaths. I look down and see the body of a conventionally attractive woman in a shade of dark blue instead of of my usually puckish male frame. I reflexively reach for my hair in horror, only for my hands to meet a collection of tentacle like appendages made of hardened cartilage slicked towards the back of my skull. Standing up in shock I grab a look at a mysterious woman in the mirror, only to discover that it was my new face. The face of an alien race notorious for being monosexual; all female.

“Jump, you devious bitch!” I exclaim, my voice coming out an octave higher than normal. She didn't mention being other species! I like romancing the blue women of the Asari, not being one!

“Attention all passengers. We have dropped out of FTL speed and are ready to dock at the Citadel. Please have your documentation ready for C-Sec clearance.”

My azure reflection became several shades whiter as I realized where I was. The optimistic future of the world of Mass Effect, about ready to dock at The Galactic Citadel, the center stage of some of the greatest conflicts of the galaxy. And it's a safe bet I have no papers since I still remember talking to Jump at the tavern with nothing else inbetween.

This is going to be a long decade.


	2. The First Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new asari body baffles our hero as the gravity of the impending horrors of the Milky Way Galaxy begins to sink in. Variza T'Som will need to learn fast

After spending somewhere north of five minutes having a minor panic attack regarding my new physical nature – narrow shoulders, wide hips and all, I sat down at my bed and began to assess my situation.

First, the where and the when. It's about a hundred and fifty years in the future and humanity discovered alien ruins on Mars along with some truly remarkable technology. These included ancient knowledge about an extinct race known as the Protheans and a special element that, once refined and is charged with an electrical current, would generate a field of dark energy that can bend and even break physical laws. This phenomenon became known as a Mass Effect field. This Element Zero became the foundation for brand new technology, such as faster than light space travel, enhanced quality of life in various medical, scientific and labor fields cross the board, and some of the deadliest weapons ever known. Humanity then made first contact with a whole host of alien races and are a new player in the galactic community. This central hub of political power and discourse is the Galactic Citadel, my very near- future destination.

It is truly amazing that even after meeting new alien races, making several scientists cry by treating the laws of physics and thermodynamics as more like guidelines, and entering a new age of communal enlightenment that the first thing that is going to give me trouble is going to be red tape.

Now the what. The race that I'm now in the skin of, the Asari, are the closest thing to a combination of Tolkien's elves and the kind of multi-colored women Captain Kirk would bed as part of a “mutual cultural exchange” this world has. They can live to be one thousand, have the best capacity for biotics: the ability manipulate Mass Effect fields via specialized nano-implants into telekinetic abilities, and have a community-driven desire to seek greater knowledge and skills across their long lifespans. As for the gender-swap, the Asari are all monogendered; all female. Which leads to a complication, the reason for their affinity for biotics is linked to their capacity to procreate with any gender of any species through a form of parthenogenesis thanks to their unique nervous system. As such they are seen as...desirable by the galactic community at large.

So now on top of having no papers for Citadel Security I'm gonna be looked at lustfully by anyone and everyone the entire time. Well, best to get humble now rather than later.

After taking some deep breaths I got up and finally got around to the bigger question: the who. Clearly some sort of arrangements were made before Jump threw me on this shuttle otherwise I wouldn't be a blue woman, so I started searching the room. Tucked under the bed was a storage box, bound to a handprint scanner. One scan later and the box opened up to reveal several interesting items.

First and foremost were several weapons: two hand pistols. One was light and looked like a high-quality commercially available weapon used by any random soldier in this world. When you play action oriented experienced set in this universe you start to recognize how commonplace certain firearms are. The second pistol was heavier and looked more specialized, it seemed familiar but at a cursory glance I didn't give it much bother. The third was an SMG with one hell of a history. It was a replica of the Locust. An assassination weapon credited to the death of two Presidents on Earth.

Underneath the pistols was a set of armor. Predator L model. High-end light armor that will prevent some weapons fire but it isn't going to save me from artillery. All properly measured and form-fitting.

Moving the weapons aside I found some more practical items. The first were several containers of medi-gel. If you were in the field and something managed to break through your kinetic shields and your space-age armor to fatally wound you, a glob of medi-gel would stop the bleeding and prevent you from going into shock, all so you can continue the fight or get to an evac. Of course it doesn't magically repair broken bones or ruptured organs so it isn't exactly a complete screw-you to the Grim Reaper. Next to the gel was the apparatus for an Omni-Tool, the natural endpoint for smartphones, tablets, cameras, personal computers, and 3D printers. Great for in the field repair, recording and cataloging data, and also playing Tetris during long trips. Finally next to the Omni-Tool was a credit chit, a form of universal currency.

I slipped the Omni-Tool on to my right hand and managed to activate it after some bumbling and slipped the chit into the receiver. A message popped up on the display showing the chit was containing forty thousand credits. Well at least I won't go hungry.

The dull orange light from the Omni-Tool revealed another big problem in the case. The item was so big my mind didn't register it at first. It was an insanely powerful heavy weapon, one that has been used to eliminate Godzilla-sized insect monsters: the Cain. A full blown miniature nuclear bomb launcher.

I backed away from the case, frightened and yelling several obscenities. Apparently, “Jesus Tapdancing Christ” was the secret phrase to my Omni-Tool because a holographic display started projecting from it, showing the image of me. The old me, the real me.

“Hey me, it's me,” the recording spoke, smiling in amusement from the statement he just issued.  
“If you found this recording that means you've found your gear and are getting ready for your hardcore run. Don't worry, you have the best implants and that Cain and Spectre-issued pistol will make sure you are ready for anything. You got this.” Then my old self vanished.

Great, apparently I was still thinking in gaming terms when Jump dropped me off. I can't tell what's worse right now, my ludokinetic dissonance or Jump's capacity to utterly troll me.

So to recap. I have an arsenal under my bed, forty grand to my name, a freaking weapon of mass destruction, and absolutely no documentation whatsoever to explain how I got them, where they came from, or who I am.

Which means I have to think quickly about one last question: why? Why would an Asari have all this and have no documentation. A question that will need to be answered with subtlety and intelligence....

***

“I'm sorry miss, but standard C-Sec procedure dictates that all luggage and personal effects must be scanned and documentation verified,” A clearly exasperated official explained to me.

“But you don't understand, this is an express delivery that must make it to the Council immediately. Special order by their Special Operations Tactics and Reconnaissance division.” I implored, keeping my posture formal as I could in my high-end military armor.

“If the Spectres truly ordered a special shipment of weapons there would be a mention of it in C-Sec records. I see none, therefore it must be treated like any other incoming arrival.”

And just like that I began to feel sick to my stomach with what I was about to say next.

“Well then, I guess I'll have to tell Saren that his newest rifle was held up by bureaucratic bullshit and call him down here right now to sort it out.” I said with as threatening a tone as I could muster, my left hand typing away at my Omni-Tool's interface like I was searching through contacts. Please don't call my bluff, for the love of god please don't call my bluff.

The officer proceeded to turn away from his keyboard and mutter to several officers in hushed tones. Finally the officer turned his attention back to me and said, “please go and make it fast miss-”

“T'Som. Variza T'Som.” I replied immediately as I rushed past the C-Sec checkpoint and into a waiting taxi, case of contraband in tow.

I proceeded to ride the automated vehicle across the Citadel before settling at the residential area, taking in the sights. Honestly if it weren't for the flying cars, the thousand -story tall buildings, I could easily be convinced this was just a regular urban city. I took off my helmet and began to smile a bit. The easy part was over, now I had to set my trap.

I booked myself a room at a high-end hotel and got to work. As easy as it would be to relax with a view, room service, and what I assume to be good television once you sift through several hundred thousand channels, I could not underestimate the kind of danger I just attracted to myself. Like a suicidal maniac running around with a fifteen-foot metal pole in the middle of a lightning storm. But it turns out the weaponry I have has one distinct yet dangerous element to it that I am going to exploit to hell and back.

I turned the shade on all the windows and pulled out a human-sized mech underneath the Cain launcher. The LOKI Mech is a simple automaton capable of using firearms and is generally used for security purposes, since they can be deployed en masse and cut down on organic life being lost. They can be programmed with simple commands, operatic systems have become very user-friendly in the future apparently, and can be equipped with anything a human-figure has. There's also the fact that the mech wasn't widely manufactured for use in the public or private sector until 2185. My calendar puts the year at 2181.

After messing with the manual and figuring out the basics I linked the LOKI mech to my Omni-Tool and proceeded to slip out of my armor, putting it on my metal assistant. Then after slipping into the closet and activating the LOKI's visual feed, I ordered it to pace around the apartment, occasionally getting it to sit down and activate the monitor on the wall. Now comes the waiting game.

The Spectres are a special forces unit enforced by the Citadel's Council. They are usually chosen for their skills as apex warriors or for being exemplary in the field of getting stuff done. They are either bona fide boyscouts or sociopathic hitmen that cherish the opportunity to justifiably murder in the name of patriotism.

Saren is the latter. In fact, he has gained a reputation for being utterly ruthless, that is if there were witnesses to speak of how ruthless he is. He also holds a dark secret, one which if this goes down the right way I might just save the galaxy six years of unspeakable horror and torment.

I spent the rest of my time trying to generate a Mass Effect field. The recording of myself mentioned adept biotics, so it has to be assumed that I have biotic amps in my body. The tricky part was understanding that it wasn't as simple as tensing a muscle or concentrating, it was like flexing another pair of nerves that were underneath the muscle tissue. Once I was capable of generating a small field and could modulate it's size and force reliably, I stopped messing around with it. Using biotic abilities is unbelievably taxing on the body, as the cold sweat on my brow and sudden urge to devastate a buffet can demonstrate. After that I readied my heavy pistol and got used to its heft and weight.

It was around two hours or so of waiting that I finally heard and saw what I was expecting. In an instant, I heard the shattering of plate glass, the sound of something smaller than a grain of sand being propelled at impossible speeds tearing through the metal and plastic of an advanced mech, and the LOKI's visual feed going dead. He actually took me seriously.

Since I heard glass shatter the mech was taken out via a sniper round. The next logical step would be for the assassin or his second to check the location personally for a confirmed kill and then to collect the item, in this case my weapons. Saren doesn't work well with others and has always been a rogue, chances are if the Council asked why he assassinated someone in the civilian sector he'd write it off as justifiable for the sake of galactic security. Spoken like a truly cold-hearted bastard.

After the better part of half an hour listening intently, I heard the sound of steps approaching my door. I slowly opened the closet door and stayed low to the ground as the figure crossed the threshold, eager to check their handywork. Slowing my breathing and moving confidently I positioned myself behind the figure as they were bent over the destroyed LOKI mech, clearly confused as to why there was metal shavings and lubricant staining the carpet instead of violet Asari blood. I placed my pistol to the back of his head, all the better to get past the armor's built in kinetic shields, and made my play.

“Don't move.” I declared, pressing the pistol at the back of the helmet. Based on the stature of the being at my mercy, it was a Turian; Saren's race. I think I may have hit the jackpot.

“Saren Arterius, for the crime of harboring the death of trillions of lives, of causing untold suffering to the galaxy by way of incurring the wrath of The Reapers, I hereby sentence you to death. Have any last words before I do this world a favor?”

“Oh quite a few,” the figure said as he slowly raised his arms in compliance.

“First of all, I'm not Saren Arterius,” he replied in a cool and restrained manner. He then moved faster than I could react. Kicking out the foot he was kneeling on to upset my posture, then with a simple pivot was facing me, thrusting out his arm in a rote martial arts move to knock the pistol from my hands, then slamming his other hand into my throat. I fell back to the wall, choking for breath.

“Second of all, I'm C-Sec officer, Garrus Vakarian,” he retorted as he pulled his own pistol from his belt and trained it right between my eyes.

“And third of all, you're under arrest.”


	3. Orange is the New Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caught by C-Sec, Variza decides the best chance for survival is to let herself go to prison.

“Who are you?” Garrus asked for the fourth time, his mandibles twitching in noticeable agitation.

“I told you. My name is Variza T'Som,” I replied for the fourth time, quietly holding a styrofoam cup of coffee in my cuffed hands and sipping politely. I was trying not to smile but it was admittedly hilarious to see the otherwise cold and effective Turian soldier lose his mind.

“There is no one by that name in Citadel records. We ran a background check with birth records on all Asari settlements from here to the Attican Traverse, ran your prints through a citizen registry, and we checked your name across all known criminal aliases in our database. All. Turned. Up. Negative!” He barked, slamming his hands on the table, trying to startle me. I will admit I did jump a bit. Still, didn't spill my coffee. I just kept sipping. Full of sugar and cream and completely inoffensive, perfect for someone who basically showed up in a new universe and tried to assassinate a monster on an empty stomach.

I could tell my nonchalant imbibing of caffeinated goodness was annoying him. I slowly put the cup down on the table and looked him straight in the eye. It's funny looking at a Turian up close, their biology is strangely reminiscent of that genetic overlap between reptiles and birds. Penetrative eyes, harsh plated features, unless you were familiar with the race you could be forgiven for thinking they were cold-blooded assassins. But I know Garrus Vakarian far too well, his future and his personality. I got this far with knowledge of past events and events to come, and I have to assume Saren listened in when I mentioned his alignment with the Reapers. Meaning if I don't get somewhere far away from him, he could easily have me killed while I await trial in the Citadel's Correctional Facility.

“I'll tell you what you want to know Garrus. But first I want to ask you a few questions and make a request. Don't worry, these won't be prying personal questions and the request will not impeded upon your sense of honor and duty. I can assure you of that. Cross my heart, and hope to die,” I cross my heart in an elegant rote motion of my hand.

“Cross your heart, hope to...what?”

“It's a...human thing. A way of saying you have my word of honor that I'm not lying to you.”

“And how do I know you to be a woman of honor? I don't know anything about you. No family, no history, not even a criminal record until now. The officers in the other room are losing their minds trying to process you.”

“If that's the case then, let me ask my first question. What are your thoughts on Saren Arterius?”

“What does that have to do with anything? If anything else I should be asking you these questions.”

“And you just gave me your answer. You don't trust him. If you thought he was a truly good and just Spectre you would have jumped to his defense, justified his actions as necessary. Imagine if that machine he shot was actually me.” I crook my mouth into a devilish smile, “you'd be taking a body to the morgue as a Jane Doe, and watching him justify himself to the Council again. With no real answers as to why. Almost as if there's a pattern....”

I lead him on. He had to take the bait. He turned his gaze away from me

“The case file on the Shanxi incident several years ago. When he was evaluating David Andersen for eligibility to be the first human Spectre. So many bodies scorched and unrecognized, and several items of interest unaccounted for.” Garrus said more to himself than to me.

“Saren is working on something in secret with another benefactor, something that will lead to-”

“The suffering and death of countless trillions. These Reapers, right?” he turned his head to me, his face somehow seeming more sympathetic.

“You said Jane Doe. That another human expression?”

Crap.

“Uhh yes. I studied on Earth for a few years, picked up some of their sayings.” I replied quickly, studdering through my alibi. I didn't even know it was possible for Turians to muster a skeptical look with no eyebrows to turn up.

“Still, that is quite an accusation. And where is your evidence? These Reapers and Saren's involvement with them?”

I finished my coffee and set it down. “I have none to offer at this time,” I say with a tone of resignation.

“And you want me to turn you loose so you can track some down? That would get me fired.”

“Oh no Garrus, I want you to do the exact opposite. If I am right, then Saren will do everything in his power to kill me, to make sure his plans go unimpeded. Sure he can just write things off, but we both know he isn't that kind of Turian. No witnesses, no chances taken. Clean and methodical. So I'd like to ask one more question and make my request.”

“Put you in witness protection?” Garrus asks, concern slipping into his voice, his body language noticeably loosening. I'm in his head.

I look around the room and gesture towards the windows and wave my hands in front of my alien ears. He understood the gesture and began fiddling with his own Omni-Tool under the table.

“You have about forty seconds before the audio unscrambles. Talk.”

“Several years from now an incident will happen on a human colony. It will involve a Spectre and an Alliance officer named Commander Shepard. The incident will involve the Spectre's mysterious death and the Commander coming in contact with a Prothean artifact. You will pour over the information in the case file because you've been trying to pin Saren as someone who lost all of his senses years ago and it fits the pattern you keep seeing. Do remember me in my cell when that comes to mind?”

Garrus' expression turned to confusion, but pragmatism overrode his curiosity as he shook his head.

“And your request?”

“Well that is simple. Since I have no records and an experimental armory on hand with unseen tech, it must go without saying that I am a dangerous assassin working in the personal interest of the galactic criminal underworld. Someone like oh say, the Shadow Broker? Because of that, you are about to get a big promotion and, as a galactic safety precaution of course, you are going to transfer me to a maximum security prison for hardened criminals. The prison ship, Purgatory.”

Garrus looked back to the windows, got up and proceeded to undo my handcuffs from the table and recuffed them behind my back.

“That place is a death sentence. You'll be stuck there for life, assuming you survive the inmates.” He whispered in my ear.

“Oh don't worry about me. Something tells me we'll see each other again. Now my weapons case and mech on the other hand, keep that under your pillow. You will need it later.” I whispered back.

“Alright you mercenary scum I've heard all I need,” He projected, “you and I are gonna have a little chat with some associates and get you a nice cell far away from here.”

The trial went on about as fast as you can imagine. Garrus creatively spliced together our private conversation into a confession of my alleged actions in a court hearing to the Citadel's Council. Saren wasn't in attendance, most likely doing his own background check on me to see if he forgot to cover his tracks. Yeah, good luck with that. I plead guilty to every crime they tried tying me to and got myself a life sentence, but it was reduced to a mere two centuries since I confessed and if I was on good behavior. By Garrus' own testimony I was to be transferred to the prison ship Purgatory via a small shuttle expedition out in the Attican Traverse. Putting a confessed mercenary in the hands of a PMC owned prison for the scum of the galaxy by order of a lawful and just system just would not fly on Extranet news networks so this was kept quiet.

By Council decree, a representative would check up on me every few years or so to make sure the warden didn't have me killed or sold off to slavers before my sentence was served. That would be very loosely enforced since the Purgatory stays on the move and charges an arm and a leg to take in high-profile prisoners. Something tells me Garrus' promotion was the cost of such a transfer considering the bitter look he gave me as he pushed me on to the shuttle heading to the station.

From there it's not hard to imagine what I was subjected to. Mugshots, obviously. This time in three dimensions with a holographic display. Forced to wear an ugly orange jumpsuit, even in the future there are fashion constants it turns out. And of course catcalls and declarations of what certain inmates would love to do to my body as I was trotted out like fresh meat. I'm by Asari standards barely legal so they were pretty graphic and creative. Live or die I'm going to have some newfound perspective on women's rights when this is all said and done.

What was a surprise was my cell mate. After being tossed in and spat on by the absolutely fine and upstanding members of the Blue Suns mercenary group, the door's energy field kicked and I was left to my bunk bed and my toilet. As I went to sit down on the mattress and catch my thoughts, a voice barked out from the top bunk, a woman's voice.

“Get off my bed, blue. Wanna sleep, gotta pay the toll,” she barked hard, leaping down in a fluid motion to intimidate me. Considering I just walked through almost thirty different cell blocks with hundreds of people implying various flavors of assault, I did flinch. Leave me alone, I had a long day.

The woman had a shaved head and was rocking some extremely dark tattoos. The kind that implied you've done a great combination of killing, stealing, and destroying. She got right up in my face and slammed a hand on the wall behind me, getting right in my personal space like a predatory lion. The terrifying thing is I didn't jump and look away because of her appearance alone, it was because I knew who she was and everything she did to get here. I was just put into a prison cell with the most powerful human biotic in the galaxy, and she has a psych eval sheet that's a mile long.

“Great, I got myself a green horn. This is gonna be fun!” She exclaimed, “First you gonna learn the pecking order, blue. There's me, everyone else out there, then you. You're lower than dirt!” She slapped me across the face hard. I think I tasted some blood. She grabbed my jaw in her hand and gave me the kind of look a serial killer has before they go for the killing stroke.

“I'm not your friend, I'm not your bodyguard, and I'm sure as hell not your prison wife! You stay out of my way and I won't splatter you all over this cell!” She threw her hand to the wall behind me, it proceeded to dent and warp from the biotic power she casually summoned.

“Now say my name, bitch.” she added, amused. Like a cat playing with a mouse on its hindlegs.

I kept my composure as best as I could, straightened my back and wiped some blood off my lips. Time for me to flip the table.

“Would you prefer your actual first name, your alias, your title, or just Jack?” I replied after clearing my throat. The look of surprise in her eyes was like Christmas.

Her response to me robbing her of another excuse to hit me made me learn firsthand why she earned the nickname, The Psychotic Biotic. Two punches to my sides, a knee to the solar plexus, and a cross to my jaw was also a clear indication that she didn't like having her power taken away. Yes, it hurt like hell, she's a career criminal.

After getting up and managing a smile through the pain I responded, “I'm sorry is that not how your script goes, Jack? Or is it Jacquelyne Nought? Clever use of the last name by the way, little reference to what they called you back on-”

“Shut! The fuck! Up!” Jack responded, punching me with emphasis on each word spewed.

At this point I was on the ground in a large amount of pain. I was definitely going to have some bruises, hopefully none of my ribs got cracked. Also if my slightly blurred vision was anything to go by I was also suffering a black eye. The blows to my solar plexis started to add up as my body started to retch. I crawled on all fours to the toilet, barely managing to keep my stream of sick in the bowl. Jack walked to my right side and placed her hand on the back of my head and grabbed hard.

“You got balls, blue. I'll give you that,” she admitted, adding more pressure to her grip, threatening to drown me in my own waste.

“And you can take a punch. So the bunk is yours. But if you ever mention anything ever again about where I've been or what I've been through, I will rip you in half with my mind. Is that clear?”

I resisted her pushing and gave a quick yes. She let go of my head tentacles.

I crawled into my newly earned bunk and started getting situated. If things play out the same way the Mass Effect video games happened, Saren will be stopped by Commander Shepard with the help of Garrus. Once that happens, Garrus can appeal to the Council that I secretly cooperated in trying to prevent Saren's attack on the Citadel with the Reaper known as Sovereign, which will lead to my immediate release and official apology. He believes in justice and is a solid law-abiding Turian, he wouldn't leave me to hang. That will be within two years.

Then the horrible thoughts hit me. In their struggles to prevent Saren's plans and depending on the demeanor of Shepard, they could easily forget about me. Meaning I won't see anything of Garrus or Shepard until they seek the aid of my bunk mate for a suicide mission to fight back the rest of the Reaper threat. That will be in four years.

If the latter happens, there's only one solution: I'll have to stay on Jack's good side so they'll take me with her.

When it rains, it pours.


	4. Steel Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza gets to know her new cellmate, Jack, and work together to survive a prison riot.

After an admittedly rocky start with my cell mate, things started falling into a routine.  
Meals in the mess hall were standard, although the ongoing harassment wasn't. Inspections of our cell for contraband were just erratic enough to dissuade any wannabe pusher. Yes, even on a space station with no internet access, people still somehow found a way to get stuff from the outside world.

But of course the crown jewel was the rec field. Technically it was an open area in the center of Purgatory station and it was more akin to a gym than anything else, comes with the territory of being a giant flying metal box full of tough hardened criminals. But it wasn't just the opportunity to work out that made it enjoyable for me. It was the grand power of the rumor mill.

Word travels fast and echo chambers are amplified when you're in isolation, so I used that to my advantage. Letting word spread that I came close to assassinating a Spectre and lived to tell the tale. Making it frighteningly clear I was a ghost, beholden to no organization with no skeletons in my closet to be used against me. But above all, playing up just how well-informed I am. I'm a nice guy all told, but prison rules have to be observed.

It only took about two weeks before I became a full blown demon in the eyes of the small fry. Jack was clearly impressed but wasn't going to say anything. She made it clear we weren't friends, but it was always fun to see certain inmates go pale as sheets when they realized how casual we were about being cell mates.

It was after about six months or so that I finally asked Jack a difficult question: asking her for help with utilizing my biotics. I got the usual backhanded comments for asking. Asari are naturally gifted with biotics, no implants required, not to mention it's directly tied to their version of the birds and the bees. I might as well have been a fish asking a scuba diver for better swimming lessons in her eyes. Nonetheless, it seems that our mutual situation, rising friendship, or Stockholm Syndrome – has to be one of those three, lead to her giving me some discreet lessons. They were at night, away from the prying eyes of the patrol guards, and they were slow.

The good news is I was a fast learner. The bad news is Jack's teaching methods facilitated a very... dangerous way of thinking. Thanks in no small part to her dark past. She was the result of a highly unethical series of experiments done on a discreet training facility on the planet Pragia, all to create the ultimate biotic warrior. Experimenting on children, performing horrible surgeries, forcing the experiments to fight to the death, rewarding the winner with narcotic drugs and other positive reinforcement to equate sadistic action with pleasure. All performed by a human supremacist group called Cerberus, a bunch of radical ex-Alliance types that believed humanity had to become the top of the galactic food chain at all costs. She was their success. And she escaped, turned pirate, and became the gold standard of the crazy chick that will literally blast you to pieces if you looked at her funny. As such, learning to use a telekinetic throw or distortion field to “rip the bastard apart” had to become more clinical and detached, for my own sanity.

This was life for a solid two years or so. Training from Jack, becoming a boogeyman to the criminal underworld, bulking up, food, bed, repeat. Now it was just a matter of things playing out the way I expected. Saren using the knowledge he obtained about the Reapers, a sentient machine race that wiped out all organic life thousands of years ago, to control and utilize another machine race called the Geth into attacking human colonies. All to look for an ancient artifact called the Conduit. Using it would summon the Reapers back from their deep slumber in dark space so they can wipe out all life in the galaxy again. He's convinced that aiding their slaughter will spare him, sad really. But the actions of one Commander Shepard and his crew will thwart him, ending in a battle at the Citadel with Saren's death and the destruction of Sovereign, the Reaper he was using as a flagship. Then once the dust settled I'd get myself an early release from the Council for attempting to warn then, cutting down my two century sentence pretty low.

I was forced awake by a defiant curveball at that future. The lights were all out, alarms were blaring, and everything was awash in a deep shade of red. Jack was gone. The door was open, and there were the sounds of a massacre.

And I have an orange jumpsuit and some basic biotic training.

I ran towards the conflict, looking for Jack. If she died to whatever was attacking Purgatory Station, it might mean trouble down the line. I bumped into other prisoners along the way, all of various alien races like the six-eyed Batarians or the large lizard-like hulks that were Krogans, all taking advantage of the ensuing pandemonium to attack or attempt to escape. Thankfully, no one bothered to pick up a pistol left behind by a dead Blue Suns guard near me, so I took the opportunity to arm myself and get a better look around.

Purgatory Station was in chaos. Prisoners were attacking each other. Fires were breaking out. There were the signs of a dogfight happening outside the windows, the impacts of exploding ships vibrating and rocking the space station. As for the guards, they were all teaming up against the invaders. A collection of tall metallic horrors with flashlights for faces and deadly plasma weapons grafted into their hardware. Speak of the devil.

The Blue Suns didn't last long against the Geth attackers. Superior numbers certainly helped the synthetics' tactics but it was the fact that the prisoners were stabbing them in the back at every opportunity. They seemed to have entered through the docking station, probably stowed away on a smaller shuttle then called in reinforcements after their initial stab at security.

I finally drew my attention away from the Geth assault and found Jack. She was being hauled away by several other Blue Suns members and a Batarian inmate across the cell block. I broke off in a dead sprint trying to reach her as her captors moved her off into a slightly larger cell. I had a feeling what was going to come, and I had to stop it if I was going to get off this station alive.

Then because the universe loves to take a dump in my Easter basket, I heard the head of the Geth assault broadcast to the entire station.

“Attention inmates and guards of Purgatory Station. Bring us the Asari known as Variza T'Som, dead or alive and you shall be rewarded with your freedom. Resistance will be met with lethal force.”

It was a pre-recorded message. In Saren's voice. And the three inmates in front of me heard it. Joy.

I pointed my pistol at them and yelled, “Either get out of my way or say your prayers now you pieces of garbage!” The grand benefit of being seen as a literal demon is you can threaten someone's life with no gun training at all. They took off in the opposite direction. Thankfully for me, those inmates were human, best not to stick around to see if everyone else has the same amount of common sense.

I doubled my pace and made it the cell Jack was put in. I suddenly wish that I hadn't. The Batarian was in the middle of a monologue about how the clearly paralyzed Jack messed up some operation he was doing out in the Terminus Systems – the area of space for outlaws and criminals. I got there just in time for him to say something about how this will be a fitting punishment, as the guards started to undress and cut off her outfit. With the Batarian holding a pistol to her head. Since it was such a great trend and I wanted to be popular, I did the same with my pistol to his.

“I'm only going to say this once. Back away, all of you.” I demanded, pushing the pistol into the Batarian's temple. I also readied myself some biotic power in my free hand in case any of the Blue Suns thought they could flank me.

The Batarian rolled his eyes and responded, “And of course you show up. Let me guess, one of you owes the other something?”

“That's for our ears only once you guys are gone,” I responded, “besides, should you guys be worried about the Geth attack?”

“Why should I be? They're here for you.” He retorted with a smug grin.

“If you believe that I have a bridge in New York to sell you,”

Before the Batarian could even parse out my human turn of phrase I unleashed my biotic power as a telekinetic wave, coming in low but at a high angle. It knocked the Batarian and the Blue Suns mercs into the ceiling and wall of the cell. Fun bonus, since all of them were basically out of their armor and with the newtons of force I put behind this throw, they were knocked out instantly.

I dropped to one knee out of exhaustion. That was a lot of power and I still haven't fully developed my endurance yet. I took the Batarian's other pistol and went to Jack. While doing what I could to cover her bare body with the remains of her suit I started talking as fast as I could.

“Jack, can you move?”

She slowly nodded no.

Seeing how I had very little fabric to work with I ripped the sleeves off of my own jumpsuit for a makeshift bra and started wrapping it around her top while retying the bottom of the suit.

“Great. Now what am I supposed to do? I won't make it out of here alone, especially if I'm carrying you with me.”

“Antitoxin... in his pocket...” Jack managed to slur.

I put my second pistol down and looked through the discarded armor of The Blue Suns. After some digging I found a small injector written in some language on it. I held it up to Jack, she nodded yes, to which I stabbed it into her neck.

The reaction was almost instantaneous. She jumped off the bed and started kicking her would-be attackers in the crotch, yelling obscenities the entire way. While that was going on I tried throwing on one of the Blue Suns sets of armor, an appropriately blue-colored affair with a white sun emblem on the shoulders. It was clearly made for a human male which lead to some chafing but as long as I moved carefully I should be fine. Once Jack was done venting her frustration I handed her a pistol and pointed to the other suit of armor.  
“Come on, we have to go.”

After some exasperated panting, Jack started to slip into the Blue Suns' armor and responded, “This doesn't change anything, blue,” she turned to me and managed a genuine smile before slipping on the helmet, “but thanks.”

She then turned her pistol on the unconscious group in the cell. I quickly knocked her hand away as it let off a shot. She stared at me with a fierce gaze, even through the opaque visor of a helmet she was scary.

“What the hell was that for, Variza!? You know damn well what they planned to do to me! They deserve to die!”

“We have more important things to do, like taking that shuttle the Geth came in! Hurry, before they figure out these disguises.”

Jack clearly wanted her fix of karmic justice and conditioned pleasure but it seems what I said got to her. Her hands shook with rage but she ultimately relaxed and motioned to me to lead the way.

We made our way across the cell block towards the shipping dock, using our biotics to remove or incapacitate anyone that gave us trouble, all while staying at a consistent sprint. A throw into a wall, a pull into a guard rail, whatever was effective at the time. Except for Jack, she just kept shooting.

We finally made our way to the docks to find one shuttle still in one piece, the Geth's own Trojan horse. Worse still they were guarded by two elite units, Geth Primes. Taller and more durable than regular Geth, as well as access to rockets and bombs.

“Any bright ideas?” I asked.

“This was your plan, blue, I'm just along for the ride.”

“Lovely, would you like to add anything constructive to this or should I just click my tongue for the next fifteen seconds?”

“Alright blue bitch, what did you have in mind?”

I looked around the open docking area and noticed there were several fire suppressant devices lying around beside several dead guards.

“See those extinguishers? We'll use our biotics to hit the Primes with them. The materials inside should rupture and obscure their optics-”

“Leaving us open to take the ship from under them and get out of here. I like your thinking.” Jack interjected.

We slowly made our way to flank the ship. I put away my pistol and took several deep breaths to call upon what little strength I had left. The trick wasn't lifting the extinguisher, it was hitting the Prime with enough force to have it double as a chemical smoke bomb. I threw out my two hands and concentrated as hard as I could. My vision began to blur and I could feel my heart rate go up but my improvised missile was off the ground. I looked across the way and saw Jack had hers ready as well. With one hand no less.

With a simple nod to each other we threw our weapons. The results could have been better. Half-way through their trajectory, the Primes noticed the incoming threats and readied their weapons to intercept. The one on Jack's side didn't react in time and the extinguisher erupted into chemical fire suppressant all over its face. The one on my side did, blowing it to pieces with a single shot from its plasma rifle. It then focused its fire one me.

I ducked to cover as fast as I could behind the flaming remains of another shuttle, listening to the Prime's energy weapon reduce it further into slag. I had to think fast, otherwise Jack might easily leave me on this station to die, assuming of course that none of the Prime's bolts gets lucky and takes my head off. I began to get a throbbing headache but I focused on my biotic power one last time, trying to create a protective barrier over myself to give me some extra protection.

“Jack! I need your help, the one Prime has me pinned down!” I yelled. I heard no response. Looks like I was on my own.

I broke away from my cover and made for a dash against the Geth Prime. As I ran past, I saw that I was right to do so, as a rocket soared past and hit the shuttle, blasting it to pieces. Thank goodness for sound dampeners on these helmets. I screamed, half in terror and half in defiance as I rapidly fired my pistol at the still alert Geth Prime, aiming for its face. Granted, I was in a mad dash towards the shuttle which means my aim wasn't the best, but I managed to tear through the hulking brute's kinetic shields pretty quickly. As for his plasma shots, they made short work of my stolen armor's built-in shields pretty quickly, leaving my own telekinetic defenses left. I could feel the kinetic force I was mitigating through my biotic barrier, how each blast continued to chip away at my stance like a sledgehammer.

My headache was turning into a full blown migraine, my vision turning to red, all while my legs felt like they were on fire from all the running. I was almost to the ramp of the ship when the Prime finally decided to get physical and swatted me away with the back of its arm. I was thrown back and clattered to the ground in a heap, my biotic barrier dissipating. I tried to get up, but every cell in my body just wanted to lie down and be done with it, my legs like noodles. Not even being threatened by an eight-foot tall terminator with a plasma gun was going to change that.

So this is how my grand adventure ends. Not even halfway through my first decade and I go out like a punk to some Geth. I closed my eyes and awaited the inevitable shot that would end it all.

Several shots rang out and I heard the squealing of a synth's processor going out, followed by several hundred pounds of metal and plastic fall over. The next thing I felt was someone picking me up and yelling at me, “Don't you dare think this means something, blue. I'm just making us even.”

“Watch what you say, Jack. You might actually start to care,” I manage to gasp.

I remained conscious just long enough to see how Jack handled the other Geth Prime. A focused blast of biotic distortion energy straight to the head, crumpling its central processor like a soda can. All thanks to that extinguisher going off so she could get in close. I have to assume my assault on the second Prime lowered its shields enough for Jack to get the killing blow, Geth's shields are notoriously impressive but their actual bodies are frail.

Jack set me down in the back and took to the pilot's seat. The last thing I remember was just how nice it felt to be off my feet as I slipped into a deep sleep.

I came to some time later. Seeing as I was still alive and Jack hadn't crashed the ship, I pulled off my helmet and let out a relieving laugh. I made it, I escaped. I escaped an attack on my life by Saren's Geth. Which means I'm just as important a threat to Saren's plans as Commander Shepard....

I made my way to the cockpit as fast as possible to see Jack about to make an FTL jump through a Mass Relay; your standard intergalactic highway network.

“Oh great, you're up. Guess that means you and I go our separate ways once we reach Omega.” She said casually.

“We have to return to the Citadel!” I pleaded.

Jack turned away from the controls to scowl at me. She had ditched the Blue Suns' armor so I got to see just how annoyed she was with me. Silver lining, she clearly appreciated my fashion ingenuity.

“Alright how hard did that Geth Prime hit you? You got caught killing a Spectre there and your first thought after getting attacked by machines that haven't been seen in three centuries is to go right back to your crime scene? I thought your kind were supposed to be super smart, blue!”

“Did you not hear who sent those Geth? It was Saren. He has command over them and they are swarming the Terminus Systems and the Attican Traverse, looking for us! If we go to Omega we are walking into a death trap. The best chance we have is to return to the Citadel.”

“Oh sure! Except for the fact that he's a fucking Spectre! He'll just kill you himself if you go there!”

“Saren has gone rogue!” I blurted out. “The Council have removed him from their ranks.”

“What?”

“Check the Extranet the minute you can, search for Eden Prime Attack. He attacked a human colony there to get a Prothean artifact, Commander Shepard of Alliance Military has been promoted to Spectre status and charged with hunting him down. They have evidence and everything.”

Jack growled and got up, thankfully she stopped the shuttle's approach to the relay. “How the hell do you know all of this? Purgatory Station doesn't allow Extranet access.”

“I just know alright, I have my sources!” I interjected.

“Bullshit!” She screamed as she attempted to punch me.

I ducked from the attack and struck her hard in the chest. She dropped to her knees in pain, looks like she's just as exhausted as I was.

“Believe me or don't believe me. Just know that right now the Citadel is the closest thing to safe in the galaxy that we have. I know a guy at C-Sec that can vouch for me. We'll both be safe there from what's going to happen. So I'm asking you to trust me Jack. Please?” I reached out my hand in good faith.

After spitting on the floor in disgust she took my hand and I helped her up.

“Fine. But the minute they lock you up when you step out of this shuttle I will leave you to rot. Got it?”

“Perfect, now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna see if there's any water or snacks on this thing for us.” I replied as I headed further into the ship.

“None for me, thanks. Your optimism has made me sick to my stomach.” she shot back.


	5. Hunches and Leaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza must convince Commander Shepard to let her join him in the fight against Saren.

Jack began standard landing procedure at the Citadel's docking bay roughly a week after our escape from Purgatory Station.  
Major vessels always make it easy to travel the galaxy with their advanced engines and engineering crews of several dozen, but between the two of us in our little shuttle it's comparing riding in an exotic muscle car to some banged up POS. The grand silver lining was there were provisions found in the ship for long-term travel, conveniently packaged with dextro-amino acid safe food for Turians and Quarians and levo-amino acid food for everyone else.

Unsurprisingly, C-Sec were there to greet us, complete with the standard party favors of rifles and guns. I did basically paint myself as a hardened criminal with no past, after all. Since I don't like to suffer alone, Jack was out with me to meet the welcoming party.

“You either have to be the dumbest or smartest asari I've ever seen in my life,” the squad leader commented.

“Eh, jury's still out,” I replied with a shrug, “but that's besides the point. Is Garrus Vakarian still an officer at C-Sec?”

“Yes he is, but he's at the Presidium, overlooking security for a Council meeting with an Alliance officer-”

“Let me guess, Commander Shepard?” I interjected.  
“I uhh yes.” the officer responded after consulting a datapad, a tone of surprise in his voice. Jack looked at me like I just grew two heads and started singing show tunes.

“Oh, well. If that's the case, feel free to take the two of us in and let the Council and C-Sec know about the attack on Purgatory Station and how we have further evidence of Saren going rogue, something I think they will be greatly interested in.” I proceed to throw out my hands for them to cuff with a smile on my face.

The looks on the C-Sec officers told me everything; this was the first they were hearing about attack on the prison.

“Well, why else would we show up back here in orange jumpsuits? We may be criminals but we're not the Geth.” I added.

“How in the hell do you keep talking me into these situations, blue?” Jack growls, her posture slumped over, her face in her hands.

“Patience, Jack,” I shoot back, flexing my arms and stretching my neck.

“You are so damn lucky there's an entire death squad around this cell right now!” She screamed as she got right back in my personal space, her nose a fraction away from mine.

I really didn't have that much to say to her, C-Sec's guns made a clear enough statement as it was. But they were clearly on edge.

So I booped her on the nose. It was an attempt to release some of the tension.

It backfired. She threw a right hook at my jaw, to which I ducked and struck her in the chest. Open palm, I'm not a savage. Her reaction was to throw herself at me, at which point my vision became a cluttered mess of prison garb, lithe tattooed female body parts, and the face of what can charitably be called a human being going absolutely feral. I heard the C-Sec officers shouting and threatening to use some sort of tranquilizer to knock us out. But Jack didn't care and I was too busy stopping her from giving me another shiner and some broken ribs to say anything.

Our impromptu catfight came to an end after Jack was held at gunpoint through the bars of our cell, right before she was planning on caving my skull in with a fist full of biotic power. I couldn't help but smile at how much of her tactics I've been able to figure out.

“Lovers quarrel?” A familiar Turian voice announced. We both turned to see Garrus Vakarian, looking pretty amused at the situation. He was also carrying my weapons case, thank goodness.

His companions were also a sight for sore eyes. To his left was a woman encased in a hermetically sealed environmental suit covered in a hodgepodge of patches and purple fabric; a Quarian. Their people are effectively immunodeficient after spending hundreds of years stuck on their fleet of ships, driven off their home planet by their creations, the Geth. They're the reason why the galaxy fears the creation of sentient synthetic life, although thanks to their situation they're the best tinkerers and programmers around. 

To his right was Commander Shepard. His appearance was... a sad disappointment. For all of me knowing about this world and the events to come, all of them are either in reaction, in relation, or in direct opposition to the actions taken by this man, but paradoxically his very personality and history is an unknown to me. It doesn't help that when Mass Effect was just a series a video games, Shepard was a player surrogate, a malleable template of various genders, ethnicities, specialties, histories, and personalities. Any and every possibility of this legendary warrior existed.

But this Shepard was, in the simplest terms, just a regular man. A gruff looking white man with a shaved head and a five o' clock shadow. He was wearing bulky heavy armor and seemed comfortable in it, casually holding an assault rifle at the ready position. Judging from that kit alone he had to be a soldier, the absolute best and brightest, courtesy of the human race's N7 program. Imagine what would happen if the Marines, the Navy, and the Army got together and decided to make something even more hardcore He had an N7 logo branded on his breastplate like a badge of honor.

After Jack calmed down and everyone put down their weapons, I got up and brushed myself off.

“Well then Garrus, if I was a lesser person I'd be giving you a big fat cup of I Told You So,” I look over at Commander Shepard to gauge his reaction. Face of stone. Great, no nonsense type.

“But time is of the essence so first thing's first,” I dropped into a deep bow in the direction of Commander Shepard. Dipped low, flourish with the hand, right leg back. “allow me to greet the arrival of the galaxy's first human Spectre, congratulations.” I looked up with a smile, Shepard looked confused.

“Now that that's out of the way-”

“Tali, can you tell if this Asari has any bugs or tracking devices on her person?” Shepard sharply interrupted, turning to the Quarian woman. She opened up her Omni-Tool and hit a couple buttons.

“No. Nothing at all. But that's not possible. That meeting with the Council was private.” she replied in shock, her alien accent sounding something close to English-speaking Polish.

“As you can tell, Shepard, I am a ma-” I caught myself with a cough. Even two years in this body and it's still surreal. “I'm a woman of my reputation. I know things, and I know just how big of a threat Saren and the Reapers pose to the galaxy. I also know that you need all the help you can get. So might I suggest an alliance?”

The woman known as Tali and Garrus turned to Shepard waiting for his response. Even when I'm not controlling him they still look to him for guidance, thank goodness for constants. He put down his rifle and got closer to the cell's bars so that we were face to face.

“Give me one good reason why I should trust a confessed criminal and her serial killing friend to help me save the galaxy.”

“Because without what I know, thousands of people will die.”

“Explain. I need evidence. Tali provided audio of Saren confessing to his actions through information salvaged from a Geth memory core. That was hard evidence, and it's what got the Council to trust me. So, I'm asking the same from you.”

I stepped back and sat down on the bench next to Jack. She was watching me intently the entire time, though I noticed her posture tensed when I deflated in front of him. I had to think, Shepard had put me on the spot and actually called me out. I can't just say I'm from another universe where his adventures were just trivial interactive entertainment, he'd have me locked up; I'd be a sitting duck for what would come next.

“Eden Prime. The Prothean artifact you came in contact with. The images and feelings that assaulted your mind. What did you see?” I asked, giving him the coldest stare I could.

“I saw... death,” Shepard responded, breaking eye contact. The imagery clearly unsettled him but he continued, “countless thousands dying by...something. Screams, destruction, then... nothing.”

“You believe this to be the Reapers based on what you have seen? You genuinely believe they threaten us?”

You could hear a pin drop with the level of silence there was between us before he finally responded,

“Yes.”

“Then where's your proof of that? Even the Council dismissed your visions as testimony, am I wrong?”

“No, they didn't consider it at all,” Garrus commented as he crossed his arms and watched intrigued. Tali on the other hand just...looked on. Hard to read faces when they have masks on all the time.

“I just... know that I'm right. I know what I saw to be real. And I'd rather be out there doing everything in my power to prevent them from coming than sit around and pray it isn't true.”

“Then you and I are in the same boat Shepard.” I got up and reached out to him. I had to get him to trust me.

“You're taking a huge leap of faith with what you've seen, Shepard. I'm asking you to make another with me,” I placed a hand on his shoulder, C-Sec officer's twitch reflexes be damned, “because I'm in the same boat as you. I've...seen visions as well. All revolving around what you will do in the galaxy and whether or not they will stop the Reapers. Some play out one way, some another. I know I can't promise you proof, but if you bring me and Jack along, I can promise you will have help.”

His expression seemed to soften, just for a little bit. I don't know Shepard's past but it looks like what I said struck a chord with him. He turned to the C-Sec officer to open the cell and motioned to Garrus to give me my things.

Everything from here moved by at an almost dreamlike pace. Due to testimony by Jack and my interaction and cooperation by Garrus Vakarian, and a vote of confidence by Shepard no less, I was absolved of my charge of attempted murder of rogue Spectre, Saren. As for the other charges I blindly plead guilty to, those were still on the table. However, thanks to my claim of tactical knowledge to help with Shepard's mission, along with my odd ability to keep Jack in check, we were directly put under his command with the grand prize for success being absolution of our criminal records. Jack made a stink about it, but thankfully the carrot was big enough for her to start running.

We moved into the cargo hold of Shepard's recently acquired ship, the Alliance vessel known as the SSV Normandy. Our shuttle went into the docking bay alongside their Mako rover and within a few short hours, we were away from the Citadel and off into the vastness of space.


	6. Disassociation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A therapist looks into Variza's odd behavior, and the Normandy crew's thoughts on their newest additions are made clear.

The first two months or so on the Normandy were rocky as hell. The crew were aggressively skeptical of my presence on the ship. The Normandy wasn't just a top of the line vehicle, the best possible collaboration between humans and turians that helped pioneer some fantastic cloaking technology tailor-made for recon and infiltration, everyone running it were defensive of its secrets from anyone not human; criminals doubly so.

I could tolerate that to an extent, but it was how I was treated by Shepard's more trusted squad mates that was sad. Since Jack and I shacked up in the Normandy's cargo hold, we basically shared our quarters with three other members.

First was Garrus, and he was the most harmless. Whenever we weren't in the field, investigating strange beacons on barren planets in the Mako ground rover or scavenging for useful materials, he was calibrating its weapons systems and doing upkeep on its onboard computer and hull. We bumped into each other once or twice and we were able to hold a conversation, but the way he looks at me was...odd.

It wasn't due to the whole prison outfit thing, I convinced Shepard to let me and Jack buy some actual proper casual wear out of my own pocket. Although shopping for dresses and underwear was certainly a different experience for me, something that both Jack and I were understandably out of our depth with, so we stuck to jackets and slacks. A fashion decision made much to the chagrin of the more formal members of the crew in their official Alliance uniforms.

Either way, for a guy that I knew had a good heart and cared more about justice than the rules, he actually quit his job at C-Sec to join Shepard, he looked at me with a decidedly alien and confused expression. Like he didn't know what to make of me half the time, and the other half like he wanted to mention there was something on my face.

The one that seemed to tolerate me in the same way you tolerate a shallow cut was Urdnot Wrex, a krogan mercenary. As a sentient race, the krogan are without a doubt the toughest around. Due to their home planet being full of horrible monsters that would eat them by the dozen and an atmosphere that would kill most races, the krogan evolved to be very durable. They're tall, are immune to most toxins, diseases, and environmental conditions like extreme cold and heat, they have a completely secondary nervous system which they use to stave off extreme pain and paralysis, and have multiple major organs: two hearts, four lungs, etc.. It says something that their civilization evolved to the point of developing nuclear weapons thousands of years ago, used them to blast their world back to the stone age out of sheer desire to battle and fight...then just kept going with their lives like it was no big deal.

It wasn't until galactic civilization tried using their talent for war for the greater good that things became problematic. The krogan were basically granted the benefits of being a race on the Citadel, with all the resources, aid, and political power that came with it, after they fought a bloody war against an overwhelming insectoid race known as the rachni. They considered the war done when the rachni were extinct.

Then the Council realized how fast they could procreate, we're talking tens of thousands of new offspring a year, outside of the radioactive hellhole that was their homeworld of Tuchanka. Considering how krogan weren't known for diplomacy or negotiation, this lead to a series of wars called the Krogan Rebellions. So the Council hired some brilliant scientists to help...cull their numbers. Hence the Genophage was used, a biological weapon that severely sterilized the krogan and greatly reduced their numbers to something resembling an Endangered Species list. They've traveled the galaxy as bounty hunters and soldiers of fortune ever since, sociologically castrated but still carrying on.

With all of that in mind, it made perfect sense why Wrex didn't like me around. Shepard and the others saw a potential ally that could stab them in the back; he saw a paycheck in case things went sideways. If I had the gumption to ask, he'd probably say it wasn't personal.

Then there was Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams, a human Alliance officer. I'm not sure if it was the military history, every member of her family served their country and their planet, or the fact she was distrusting of aliens on an Alliance ship, but she always found some way of annoying me. Everything from a condescending sneer to her disdain for my lack of military code – which she just loves to cite at me, or some backhanded comment about me being loose or something. Joke's on her, I don't plan on falling in love here.

Then there was Commander John Shepard himself. The fact his first name was John bugged the hell out of me, it being so painfully generic, and his attitude was a hard mix of aggressive military drills and sharp pragmatic action. It was basically military boot camp on a space ship with aliens. Waking up early, work out, martial arts training – Wrex noticeably smiled every time Ashley successfully knocked me down in sparring matches, and firing range practice. Every single day I could tell he was disappointed in my progress. He thought he was getting an asari that spent at least a century learning how to fight and instead got...me. Only solace I had in his aggressive drills were that he noticed I was a natural shot with pistols and SMGs and that I slept like a rock when the day was done. 

The only downside was, other than Jack, another biotic by the name of Kaiden Alenko and Wrex, there were no other biotics I could learn from. Jack didn't feel like it half the time, Kaiden was always out in the field doing field recon or something.

And Wrex kind of hates me.

Then something unexpected happened, Shepard called a shrink on to the Normandy.

It started off as a normal day after drills and the practice range and we just made a quick stop on the Citadel for supplies.

I was on my way back to the cargo hold when I was stopped by her. She was an Asari with purple skin, wearing a formal flowing dress and holding a datapad.

“Excuse me, are you miss Variza T'Som?” she asked politely.

I nodded in response. She gave a professional glass smile and introduced herself.

“My name is Doctor Lissandre Dren. I was hired by Commander Shepard to help assess and otherwise assist the mental health of the members of his team. Since your mission is one of high duress, my trade should be one of great demand.”

This legitimately surprised me. Considering how much of a hard ass Shepard was to me, I think I liked him better when I was making him dance like a doofus in night clubs from behind a television screen, I expected his idea of mental health management would be some retrograde variant of “suck it up.” It's good to be reminded I live in an optimistic future; potential mass extinction by evil machines notwithstanding.

“That's nice,” I slyly retorted, “if you need me I'll be in my dark place in the corner of the cargo hold waiting for the next shit job or life-threatening mission,”

“Actually miss T'Som, I wish to speak with you next in my office,”

“Why?”

“I...think it'll be best if we continued this discussion in my office. Trust me, this will only take two hours of your time, then you can go back to... whatever it is that you do,” she added that last part after looking towards the cargo hold where it looked like Jack and Wrex were playing cards, Garrus underneath the Mako double checking some wires or something.

Well, she is an Asari so she has at least a dozen psychology degrees with multiple alien races, and I get the feeling this was also done by Shepard to get a better idea of me since he can't just Space Google me.

I agreed, and she escorted me to a makeshift office out of the medical bay of the ship, Dr. Chakwas didn't seem to mind.

“Please state your name for the record,” she began.

“Variza T'Som.” I replied.

“Is that your birth name or an alias you've developed?”

I felt a pang of confusion. Dr. Dren was really good at what she did.

“It is a...name I travel under,” I acquiesced.

“Interesting. Do you wish to tell me your real name? I asked Dr. Chakwas to sound proof this part of the bay so it will be strictly confidential.”

“You...wouldn't believe me if I told you.” I mentioned as I lay on the medical table, trying to look at my feet like an embarrassed child. Unfortunately, my B-cup breasts got in the way. I turned my head to the side and crossed my arms, then quickly put them back to my sides. “I mean...a girl has a right to her secrets....Right?” I tried adding a smile to deflect my mannerisms. It registered about as well as a wet fart. Dr. Dren made some notes on her datapad.

Things got more awkward from there. She'd ask about my past and my upbringing, and I would try to give vague answers. I can't take things from my actual past as an average human being living on Earth in the 2010s, Humanity has only spent north of thirty years on the galactic stage and according to some blood tests from Dr. Chakwas my body is about two-hundred years old. It just would not equate. But Dr. Dren mentioned she's in her 400s and talked about her time at the universities on the asari world of Illium, trying to get me to open up. It didn't work.

Then things took a more personal turn.

“How many partners have you melded with?” she asked casually.

Apparently asari have the capacity to blush. I broke eye contact with Dr. Dren.

“No one.” I responded.

“Well that makes a certain level of sense. Give it at least fifty more years, right?” She chuckled. Then she added with a coy smile, “or maybe that special someone hasn't come around yet?”

“Why the hell do you care about my love life, doctor?”

“No need to be pushy, Variza, it's a natural part of life. Being able to be open and honest and passionate with another being, that unbelievable feeling when your nervous systems intertwine and you both truly feel like one whole being. It is just-”

“Shut up! I don't want to hear about it!” I yelled, red in the face. Or maybe violet in the face, I don't have a mirror for reference.

Dr. Dren clicked her tongue and made more notes on her datapad. I tried to compose myself but this talk of asari intimacy just...bothered me. And now I came off as some emotionally stunted angry person, I had to give her something.

“Actually I... never really learned how to meld.” I confessed. Dr. Dren looked surprised.

“How is that possible? It comes natural to all asari, there are extensive articles about the process, and even then you could always ask your mother about it.”

I spun a small story based in half truth. How my mother took off when I was born with no real maternal instinct driving her, my conservative upbringing on an alien colony with very few asari to associate with or talk to so I kept to myself, and my shear non-interest in the practice in favor of more practical skills. She seemed to take it as is but I got the distinct impression she didn't fully buy it.

“Does that explain why you have been spending time with Dr. Liara T'Soni?” Dr. Dren replied.

“She has been through a lot,” I responded a little quickly to be considered normal. “when Shepard and I found her on Therum-”

“Your mission last month in the Artemis Tau cluster, yes. I read the report made by Shepard,” she interjected, “you were there to recruit Dr. T'Soni thanks to her extensive research on the Protheans to help in your mission to track down the rogue Spectre, Saren Arterius. You were attacked by Geth and a Krogan Battlemaster mercenary and barely made it out of the ruins alive due to an...improvised escape method with a deep mining laser.”

“...yes that about sums up what happened,” I responded. Although he did leave out the instances where I lost my lunch traveling to the ruins in the Mako. How the heck can something that requires so much maintenance handle like a poorly put RC car that flips every mile or so is beyond me.

“You still haven't answered my question though, Variza. Is there a reason why you spend so much time with Dr. T'Soni?”

“It...may be to learn more about how asari can transfer thoughts and ideas through their melding process.”

In truth it was because I always wound up having her fall in love with my version of Shepard and old habits die hard. But I also needed a primer on this crucial asari skill.

“So it is romantic intention. That's...interesting considering what I have heard from the other members of the crew.” Dr. Dren replied, typing something on her datapad.

“And what exactly have they been saying about me, Dr. Dren? That I'm dangerous? That I can't be trusted? That they're afraid of what secrets I know about them? Sorry doctor, but that's just what I do.” I boasted, trying to gain some ground.

Instead, Dr. Dren produced and Omni-Tool and hit some buttons on the interface. Within seconds a holographic image of Jack appeared in front of me in a translucent orange glow, her body sitting on a nonexistant chair.

“Variza?” she visibly snorted and turned to spit, “She's alright I suppose. She talks a lot and her mind game stuff weirds me out but she's...kind of a yappy dog. All this talk of being a boogeyman and I could easily take her in a fight hands down.”

“I saved her life. She would have been tortured and left to die if it wasn't for me.” I reacted.

The image of Jack flickered to Garrus Vakarian, once again sitting down casually, his hands fiddling with some tool he was using; most likely on the Mako.

“Variza T'Som? Well other than the fact she gave me an entire month's work of paperwork by the stunt she pulled at the Citadel and the bizarre weapons she had on her person she's... weird. She's an asari yet she acts more like some punk human we sometimes get on the Citadel. Self-indulgent kids acting like they're the center of the universe. As for her knowing stuff it just feels wrong. Like she knows how to use me like a machine.”

“I'm...just trying to help because I know what's coming.” I said more to me than her. She heard it anyway.

“Do you see Shepard pouring over psych profiles and manipulating his associates?” Dr. Dren asked.

I had no answer.

The recording of Garrus switched to Wrex as he was standing up. His opinion was very simple.

“What about her? She can shoot, she has biotics, she's taking orders so far. She's doing her job. Although her habit of eating that human food on the Citadel that...ramen stuff is really weird. Looks too much like worms.”

Then there was Ashley....

“My opinion on the criminal known as Variza T'Som doesn't matter. My commanding officer sees her as an asset and as such I must comply with his command. But as a person and off the record I can't stand her. Her technique is sloppy, her marksmanship, while admittedly impressive by untrained civilian standards, leaves a lot to be desired, and her command over biotics is pitiful compared to what I have seen demonstrated by officer Alenko. She also keeps affecting human slang and turns of phrase, like she's trying to relate to the rest of the humans on the ship. It is unbelievably forced and makes her come off as artificial.”

“That's just...how I talk.” I barely whispered.

The biggest blow came when Ashley became Commander Shepard.

“As a warrior, Variza T'Som is barely competent. Her control over biotics is helpful in the field and her ability with firearms can be improved, but her capacity for extensive treks and endurance intensive exercises is below average. For an asari that has claimed to have performed terrorist attacks and political assassination, her grasp on tactics and protocol are not only minimal, but incongruous.

“While on our mission to Zhu's Hope in the Feros system, where we discovered an entire human colony were being controlled by the spores of an alien creature called a Thorian, I ordered my squad mates to fire upon the infected, understanding there was no hope to remove the contagion from them. She had an outburst and refused the orders, demanding that we re-assess the situation and mentioned that there was a cure that could be dispersed through the chemical component of our grenades. It was only after half the colony were killed that we discovered this cure she spoke of. This means either she found information and didn't inform the team, leading to misinformation, or she knew all along about the Thorian and compromised the team's safety for no good reason.

“It also doesn't help that her social skills are lacking. Aside from terse responses regarding the mission at hand or some smart-ass one liner, she seems to treat every other person we meet with a casual disposability, except in rare instances where she convinces several individuals to act against their special interests to help her and the team bypass various dangers or inconveniences.

“I'm no psychologist but if you asked my opinion on Variza T'Som's character she's an overconfident idealist with delusions of grandeur. She has gotten lucky so far, but her detached and cold demeanor may very well border on sociopathy or even a disassociative disorder. As such, I want her heavily monitored at all times in case she acts outside the interest of the mission and order an immediate psych evaluation by a licensed professional.”

And with that, Shepard vanished.

I had no words....

“If it makes you feel any better, Miss T'Som, I don't think you're a bad person.”

“I...what?” my tone a mix of anger, confusion, and sadness.

“I think you have created a grand mask for yourself that you don't want anyone to see crack. All to hide something greatly personal. You're emotionally stunted, probably due to not being around your own kind and you find that daunting and alienating, which has manifested in a cocky stand-offish behavior and a desire to prove yourself as valuable.”

“Doctor I...” I was speechless. She was really good.

“As for the whole idealist thing... I think that's exactly why you should stay on the Normandy.” She added, putting away her data pad and getting up from her seat.

“Commander Shepard may be a brilliant soldier and his crew might be able to get the job done. But they still need someone to remind them of what they're fighting for more than what they're fighting against.”

I actually managed a smile after that and thanked her.

“Also as for your... lack of adult development I have scheduled an appointment with Shaira, the asari consort on the Citadel for you. She owes me a favor. See her on this date,” She tapped something on her Omni-Tool, causing mine to beep and display the information, “and I'm sure her compassion and wisdom will help you.”

“So...we're done.” I asked, feeling completely mentally drained.

She nodded. So I left.

Just in time to be ordered by Shepard to suit up as we were making our way to the Noveria system.


	7. Team Trust Exercise Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy Crew make their way into the laboratory on Noveria, Variza begins to suspect things are not as they were before.

I get the distinct impression that the universe has a sick sense of humor. Within the span of a few hours of a therapy session where I found out that Shepard's crew has some flavor of distrust or disinterest of me, I am now in a fight for my life with that exact same crew being my only lifeline.

“Get these doors closed goddammit!” Shepard roared, his assault rifle blaring through the impregnable white out blizzard.

I was on his flank laying down cover fire on our monstrous assailants with my SMG, in focused semi-auto bursts of course, “Come on Tali, you got this!” I yelled over my shoulder. Turning back to see if she was fine was a bad idea. A horrific pale white tendril lashed through the cold towards me with lethal intent. Shepard managed to reduce it to gooey chunks before it took my head off.

We continued moving back through the threshold of the giant reinforced steel doors, Tali on the inside pounding away on her Omni-Tool frantically. Shepard and I stepped through and continued firing at the sight of tendrils or skittering insectoid legs. My SMG finally overheated and locked up, I swore under my breath. I switched to my pistol and continued blasting away while getting behind Shepard. With the way he handled his assault rifle and stayed so cool under pressure I found myself taking back how white bread he looked.

“Doors are closing now!” Tali announced! She slid to my side and let loose some blasts from her shotgun, shredding some more of the threatening hoard in the swirling white. The following twenty seconds was nothing but the drumming of military weapons, the shrieking and screams of our enemies, and some loud determined war cries. Mostly from me. I've only been doing this for like two years, leave me alone.

Then the doors finally closed and sweet sweet silence followed.

Shepard and I removed our helmets once the doors sealed and the building's atmospheric generator and heating system kicked on, breathing in sighs of relief. We looked at each other briefly, though I broke eye contact first. If I was better at reading faces I'd say he was glad to have me around.

“Key'lah,” Tali sighed, slumping down near the console as she put away her shotgun, “can someone tell me what we just got ourselves into?”

I took some breaths to help calm myself and spoke first.

“Rachni... Matriarch Benezia has been making a nest of rachni,” I wiped some sweat off my brow and checked my weapons, they had finally cooled down.

Shepard cocked an eyebrow at me but actually managed a flit of a smile towards me. “So that's why you insisted we brought the full team planetside. You knew Benezia was working on something major for Saren.”

“Beats going through days of red tape and bureaucracy at Binary Helix doesn't it?” I retort.

“If it wasn't for the fact that Noveria is out of Citadel jurisdiction, that would have gone by a lot faster.”

“That does beg the question, Variza. How did you know there was an investigator willing to help us track down Benezia if we found evidence of corruption on Administrator Anoleis?” Tali asked.

“She just...stuck out is all. Her cover wasn't that good,” I lied. Tali seemed to buy it.

“Alright ladies, chit-chat is over, we have to rendezvous with the rest of the team. Move out.” Shepard ordered. We put our helmets back on and got into formation.

It's amazing how quick a situation can go from normal to the absolute worst, even when you see it coming. It all started with a report from Alliance command about sighting the asari Matriarch Benezia at the Peak 15 research facility on Noveria. It was suspected for a while she was working for Saren, although the army of Geth we fought through to get here made that a confirmation. Of course before all of that we had to deal with corporate intrigue and espionage, the kind that you can't get rid of even with the lateral powers that be of a Spectre, and it was beyond tedious. Thank goodness for the power of spoilers.

Obviously, we had more to worry about at Peak 15 than just the Geth. That would have been relaxing by comparison.

We made our way towards the main lobby and began a tactical sweep. I shot out some of the ventilation ducts, despite odd looks from Shepard and Tali. I casually mentioned it was to prevent ambushes. They still looked at me weird.

“Garrus, how is your team handling repairing the communications array?” Shepard spoke into his communicator.

“Slowly making progress. Jack's biotics are great at keeping these things away while I work. Although I think something is wrong with Wrex. He's been laughing nonstop while fighting.” Garrus replied.

“What did you expect, Garrus? It's an old enemy of his people and blood rages tend to throw rationality out the window,” I respond.

“So they are rachni. Here I was hoping they were just bad science experiments gone wrong like out of one of those Blasto movies.”

“Sorry Garrus, this is real. Watch your backs and patch me in to the Normandy once it's taken care of,” Shepard replied.

“Alright, now we can just head into the labs where Benezia is and confront her,” I remarked as I casually walked to the door leading to the tram. The doors remained shut and a holographic message appeared telling me about the lockdown due to limited power.

“Oh...right, the reactor still needs repairs. How is Kaiden coming along on that?”

Shepard put a finger to his ear, listening to a private line.

“He and Ashley are almost done, they're making their way to us now,”

“Alright, let's get that ice off the emergency entrances then,”

It was after about two hours of scouring darkened hallways and abandoned living quarters punctuated by rachni attacks before we made our way to the alternative exit doors, all iced over. I would have built up more suspense here but rachni have no natural defense against biotics or fireballs created by quarian engineers with extensive knowledge of chemistry, so just imagine a scene from Aliens except the marines were also Jedi. Not exactly the same nail-biting experience, but appropriate for how badly we mopped them up.

Tali began thawing the ice as Shepard and I watched her six.

“Is this another situation like at Zhu's Hope, Variza?” Shepard asked, still maintaining his stance and posture.

“You mean did I already know about the rachni and elected not to tell you? Honestly, Shepard would you even believe me?” I responded.

Shepard remained silent for a while, his stance shifting a little.

“Considering what you have done already with stuff you just happened to know, it would have held some more water,”

“Not bad for someone with possible sociopathic tendencies right?” Shepard turned to look at me, his posture clearly giving away concern, “don't worry, Dr. Dren took select testimonials from the crew as part of our therapy sessions. It was...insightful.”

“How so?”

“Well that Wrex doesn't hate me for one. You'd think for a mercenary like him focusing on survival he'd see me as a big fat sack of cash that could also shoot his enemies.”

Almost as if on cue we heard rapturous laughter from behind the door, now free of at least five solid feet of ice. Wrex ran in, covered in rachni viscera with his helmet off and smiling from ear to ear. Or rather smiling from eye to eye. Garrus and Jack followed closely behind him. Without missing a beat, we helped them bottleneck the rachni attacks. Soon, Ashley and Kaiden followed.

After some creative barricading and applying some medi-gel to longstanding acid burns from rachni spit, we made our way to the tram leading to Peak 15's Rift Station; Matriarch Benezia's area of operations.

The tram ride itself was uneventful, although I did discover what became of the scientists under Benezia's employ. All dead. Not by a botched bio-weapon experiment but by the ravaging rachni. Guess that side mission isn't going to happen here.

We all went over protocol about how to handle Benezia and the bottom fell out of my stomach.

“What's there to talk about,” Ashley interjected, “we go in, take her out and wipe out the rachni. Do the galaxy two favors.”

“You're out of line, Williams,” Shepard retorted, “Benezia has to have some crucial information on Saren, an idea as to what his next move is, we have to take her alive so we can interrogate her,”

“But we're still killing the source of her rachni right?” Wrex inquired.

“That is going to be a problem, Wrex,” I respond, “don't you think it's a little weird that the rachni attacks have been uncoordinated? Chaotic even?”

“But that's how they work, Variza. Swarm tactics, they don't need to be tactical.” Garrus chimed in, playing devil's advocate.

“If that was true, the Council wouldn't have called in the krogan before.”

Wrex grunted in agreement, “You're right. Something seems off about them.”

“So what does this have to do with the source?” Kaiden asked. I jumped a little in my seat. I just realized he was sitting right next to me.

“It means that whatever created these rachni have actively messed with their ability to coordinate, which implies a grand intelligence. And what can you do with an intelligence?” I look to the crew. I got some blank faces. “Seriously, am I the only one who thinks about this stuff first? You can reason with an intelligence.”

Ashley rolled her eyes, “are you seriously implying we negotiate with these things? If you haven't noticed they have been trying to kill us!”

“Williams, that's enough. Variza, what you're suggesting can be read as a serious affront to the Council. The rachni posed such a massive threat to the galaxy, to let them live would mean big problems down the line.”

“And I'm telling you they fear the Reapers just as much as we do,”

I could feel a few members of the squad look away at the mention of the Reapers. Despite Shepard's visions, my insistence, and Saren's zealotry they still haven't witnessed what they're capable of first hand, it makes sense that they still haven't taken them so seriously.

“trust me, they'll be a grand help in our battles later.”

I saw Ashley and Kaiden about to ask follow-up questions when the tram slowed to a stop. When that happened it was back to business as usual. Shepard divided us into units and we made our way to Benezia's lab.

I won't front, my hands were shaking the entire time for multiple reasons. Asari Matriarchs are some of the most intimidating beings in the galaxy for the simple fact that they are asari in the last few decades of their life. Over nine-hundred years of wisdom, knowledge, and combat experience all combined together to make a blue woman you do not want to mess with. And that's before I remembered what other surprises she had waiting for us.

We were met by her own Asari Commando Unit. Elite warriors with centuries of experience and unfettered biotic might. Even with the eight of us, the commandos had us outnumbered by two. And Benezia by herself counted as at least three as far as I'm concerned. She turned her attention from the subject held in the containment pod at the lab's center: a rachni queen.

“So here you all are, like cattle to the slaughter,” she crooned, descending from the observatory platform with confident regality.

“Though I suppose it would be a mercy, considering the glorious age Saren will be ushering in with the aid of Sovereign.” She came down to meet us directly... then waved her hands in a demonstration of her biotic power. I couldn't move. My hands, my legs, my head, my weapons. I was frozen to the spot. So was Shepard and everyone else I could see through my field of vision.

“Tell me something, have you ever faced the fury of an Asari Commando Unit before? Well, consider it a grand honor. An act of mercy from the Reapers,”

The Commandos all organized themselves into a kill box, then with another wave of the hand, Benezia pulled us out of stasis.

Then all hell broke loose.


	8. Team Trust Exercise Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matriarch Benezia begins her assault on Shepard's Team, but Variza uncovers a cruel truth to the asari ruler's newfound greater power.

“Spear maneuver now!” Shepard bellowed over the hail of death raining from our would-be executioners, Jack and I snapping into position throwing up biotic barriers to protect the group.  
Without missing a beat, Kaiden, Garrus and Tali activated several programs on their Omni-Tools and started overloading several of the asari's weapons, sparks flying from the intricate parts and the metal becoming noticeably superheated.

Funny aside about the weapons of this world. Technically every single firearm has an unlimited supply of ammo. Each gun takes a fraction of a piece from a large block of metal, something smaller than a grain of sand taken out of something the size of a giant brick, and that fragment is then propelled with Mass Effect technology, ignoring certain things like inertial mass in order to make something already quite deadly even deadlier. The problem is firing too often without discipline or discretion leads to the weapon overheating, making it a giant space age club for a few minutes. So, naturally several talented engineers and hackers have taken advantage of this fundamental flaw. Unless your target has some powerful anti-virus software ready to go or other form of cyberprotection, your guns aren't gonna be getting much use.

Thankfully for us, these asari weren't prepared. Then Wrex charged in with a powerful bellowing roar, activating his krogan berserker mode, ignoring the reactionary fire by the commandos attempt at a kill box. His shields were shredded along with any biotic protection he implemented; and he didn't care.

Then a single shot rang out through the barrier Jack and I were maintaining. Garrus Vakarian had his sniper rifle at the ready, taking one of the commandos' heads off. Wrex slammed into the second asari next to Garrus' victim, hitting with the force of a semi-truck. She flew past Benezia and crashed into the far wall, her helmet shattering like cheap fiberglass and her neck snapping like a twig.

The kill box was broken. Jack and I lowered our barriers, much to the joy of my buckling knees and heavy breathing, and the soldiers proceeded to take point as we dropped to cover. Shepard and Ashley started firing from the hip as we took advantage of the hole punched through by Wrex. Kaiden took advantage of his tech training in addition to his biotics to overclock his armor's shields and layered it on top of a biotic barrier, but not before igniting a highly compressed container of liquid nitrogen near three other commandos. They all saw what happened, but the brilliant thing about cover fire is that it's meant to induce panic, not death. The explosion of flying metal and subzero temperature coolant that flash froze their bodies to brittle icy chunks saw to that. Apparently even with centuries of experience, a fraction of a second of indecision is all it takes to mess up.

Five down, five to go. Garrus stayed in position and started scanning for new targets. Tali charged through with Shepard and Ashley, pistol at the ready and unleashing some more impromptu flamethrower action.

In the chaos of our reactionary attack, I lost track of the others. Hunkering down near a dissection table and taking potshots at an enemy with way more experience than you tends to do that. She had the high ground and was slowly chipping away at my table, so I took a risk and sprayed from my smig while diving to a better form of cover. There wasn't any, and my gun was glowing red. But I was already moving in her direction, why not do something even more reckless?

I threw my full weight into a single strike, vaulting over the supply crate she was using as cover, coming down on her crouching form with a double kick to her face. She moved just in time to avoid such a major blow, but thanks to a quick shift of weight I was able to redirect the attack into kicking the assault rifle out of her hand. Without missing a beat, my opponent got into a fighting stance and opened upwith some rapid punches and kicks.

Before this crazy Jump nonsense began I did have some knowledge of martial arts. About ten years of Tae Kwon Do, seven years of Hap Ki Do, and some weapon disciplines like bo staff, swords, nunchucks and sai, and a fundamental understanding of other martial disciplines like wrestling and fencing. Broke some bones, won some medals and trophies in sparring matches, and even used it in self-defense in several small instances. This is now on top of two years of living in prison with cutthroat criminals, some of which could easily qualify as miniature tanks, and two months of hardcore military training by humanity's best and brightest martial artists and marksmen.

With all of that muscle memory and knowledge, I was made acutely aware of how much my opponent outclassed me. Moving quickly yet efficiently, her body perfected to that of a killer, her blows were ruthless and precise as they broke through my guard and exploited my weaknesses. Powerful punches and kicks were felt through my armor as I tried to double back and get some distance, the wind knocked out of my lungs and the pain adding up.

Then she pulled out a combat knife and went for a killing blow. My legs were like jello and she pummeled my body so hard I was sure I had some broken bones; I was in no position to deflect that attack the way she was holding it and the way she oriented her center of gravity. Then my own special turian guardian angel delivered some aid with a shot to the head, her body falling over in a lifeless pile. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I turned to thank him but saw several things in the chaos of the battle that made me bite my tongue. First, Wrex was unconscious, the three remaining asari commandos had combined their biotic power and had launched a focused distortion field in his direction. They brought the equivalent of an air strike to a close quarters gunfight, and the crumpled crater that was once the laboratory's testing area with a barely conscious krogan inside was the result. At least I hope he's just out cold. As for the others, they were casually being beat back by Matriarch Benezia. She didn't even have a firearm, she was just casually using her biotic power to throw blasts of energy and deflect attacks like they were nothing.

This wasn't right. As powerful and versatile as biotics are and even with almost a millenium of experience, Benezia shouldn't be this powerful. There's a reason why even asari biotics still wear body armor after all, this stuff is exhausting. Yet there she was backing up the other two commandos casually lifting my teammates out of cover with a thought and casually deflecting fire with barriers conjured with her other hand. Tali and Garrus were already thrown bodily into a wall, their weapons clattered on the ground. Kaiden tried for a close quarters shotgun blast but was slammed into the ground by the commando's coordinated telekinesis. Shepard's team was losing ground fast, Benezia's unit closing in on them, and their strikes were becoming more desperate.

Then I saw something on her hand, some sort of metal device that was grafted into the flesh of her skin. Then it hit me like a slap in the face; Matriarch Benezia has gotten cybernetic upgrades from the Reaper, Sovereign. A sort of experimental defense system that can somehow cancel out and absorb the kinetic force of incoming fire, and then channel it in other ways. Such as redirecting that kinetic energy in a concussive blast, or bolstering shields...or biotics if you have implants compatible with the tech. The kind of tech that's over three years too soon for this world and was originally the result of untold ethical tampering and illegal body modification.

Meaning the more and more Shepard and his crew try to punch through her defenses, the worse it'll get for us. I saw it in her eyes, even from far away. That predatory sneer before the kill, the euphoria of taking down a prize for a master. The shell of a woman who was once a loving mother to a brilliant scientist currently on our ship worried out of her mind. A puppet controlled by heartless machines....

I leapt to the top of the containment unit containing the rachni queen. With some adjustments on my Omni-Tool I cut a hole through the transparent protector. I then leaned down and spoke to it.

“If you can understand me, nod now.” I projected.

The queen did so.

“I know your children are scrambling, unable to join in your guidance. I shall guide them to you, but you must help us. Do you understand?”

The queen nodded a second time.

Then I unhooked all the grenades on my belt and the remote detonator for all of them. I threw the grenades in the containment unit and held the remote in my hand. The queen screeched in fear.

I then leapt down behind Benezia and her five troops, interposing myself between her and the command console to the queen's prison.

“Benezia! Stand! Down!! Now!!” I yelled over the gunfire, holding out my detonator with as much menace as I could muster.

She turned and saw what I had done. Her face went from arrogant pride to a bitter scowl. She called for her troops to hold their fire. Just around the same time they were about to execute Wrex's helpless form and finally brought together the rest of the crew for a mass execution.

“Any of your groupies shoot my friends there, I pull the trigger and your little science experiment for Saren goes up in smoke. Rachni share a hive mind with their queen, you know what that means if she goes.”

Benezia's face went from anger to one of amusement. She slowly approached me, I took one step forward and held the detonator out. She stopped. Nevertheless, she elected to speak.

“Oh my dear, aren't you the bold one? Saren was right to mark you as a person of interest. No history, no records, and the first record of you showing up anywhere was you trying to kill him. Tell me something, Variza, what makes you think you can rebel against something as gloriously all-powerful as the Reapers? The ones that lead to a new golden age of power and knowledge,” She let the sleeves of her dress to roll down, exposing her azure flesh covered in harsh looking metal protrusions.

My hand was starting to shake, but I forced down my anxiety and maintained my stance.

“That's simple, I haven't been indoctrinated. Maybe you shouldn't be spending so much time in a ship that actively messes with your head overtime” I declared.

“Please, indoctrination is for the weak-minded. I simply see the truth” she shot back defensively

“And for those with more common sense, they use more aggressive body modification to directly influence your mind. All the easier to have more slaves to do the Reapers' bidding.”

Benezia took a step back, her stance oozing self-doubt. I took a step forward, detonator over my head.

"You're lying! This was a gift for my loyalty! I am still me!"

“Come on Benezia, you're more than this. Your daughter Liara has spent decades of her life studying the Protheans, their vast empire of technology and intelligence, the kind that we're still figuring out to this day. If the Reapers wiped them out without a second thought all those millennia ago, what makes us any better? I mean, our entire Mass Relay network is just us borrowing their old tech, we're not exactly on their level.”

“Liara,” Benezia gasped, her mask of callous hatred shattering into a mother's warmth, “my girl, my brilliant girl,” she started muttering.

“Yes. Liara T'Soni. Your brilliant scientist of a daughter. The one who is helping us stop Saren. We just need your help to know exactly where he is going. What he's planning.”

And for a beautiful second, I saw the true Matriarch behind all of the mutilation done to her by the Reapers. Wise but strong. Motherly but stern. All ready to do everything and anything to protect her family.

Then she started holding her head, screaming in excruciating pain. Several of the asari commandos were looking at each other in confusion. I stared them down while Benezia fought Sovereign's programming. I also proceeded to take several steps towards the console and hit some buttons. The rachni queen slipped away. I looked quickly to Commander Shepard, he recognized what I was doing, even if it was perfectly clear he didn't approve.

Benezia managed to collect herself and spoke once more, but in a more urgent tone, like she was afraid of retribution by some dark presence.

“Saren has rediscovered the Mu Relay, a Mass Relay at these coordinates,” She quickly pressed several buttons on her Omni-Tool and sent them to Shepard. “they lead to the lost Prothean planet of Ilos. He believes that is where the Conduit is, that will help summon the Reapers.”

The Mu Relay was considered lost to the galaxy in the aftermath of the Rachni Wars. Made sense that Saren and his Geth would discover intact rachni eggs and try breeding an army.

“Good, Benezia, now we need more,” I pressed. “this technology that Saren bonded to you. Where was it discovered? The Reaper flagship Sovereign have it on board?”

“No!” Benezia bellowed! She fell to her knees, her arms beginning to spasm.

“Sovereign did this to me! Sovereign is a Reaper!!” She screamed. Her body contorted and twisted in horrible ways, her bones snapping. Sovereign was trying really hard to shut her up. 

The commandos finally had their weapons completely at their sides, some actually looking away at the grotesque spectacle of it all. Shepard and the others were also dumbfounded and shocked by it all.

I couldn't bear to see her in pain anymore. No matter what, she didn't deserve this. I got as close as I could and drew my pistol, aiming it between her eyes. There was a flicker of understanding through her teary eyes, and she nodded in acceptance.

“I'll tell Liara you died like a hero,” I say, my voice shaking as much as my hand, “she loves you very much.”

And I pulled the trigger.

An eternity of silence followed. Then I realized I started crying at some point as tears hit the floor. I may not be a true asari, but there are certain primal things that all sentient life hates to do.

“Tali,” I finally managed to say, “I know you were recording this on your Omni-Tool to send back to the Normandy in case we didn't make it. Please tell me you got all of that.”

She nodded. I breathed a sigh of relief.

Whoever was the new lead of the asari commandos finally broke their silence.

“By the goddess, what did we just see?”

“Saren's glorious future for the galaxy,” Shepard replied.

“Holy shit, Commander!” A voice exclaimed on our comms.

“Oh it's you, Jeff. Thank heaven.” I mentioned.

“That's Joker to you, hot stuff,” he shot back

“You two can flirt later, we need pick up and medical evac. We got four down and in critical condition.” Shepard ordered.

“We also have five eyewitnesses willing to give testimony to what happened and... a body to collect.” I added, looking back at the pile of mangled flesh and metal that was once a proud asari Matriarch.

I started to lose my balance and started to fall forward, the adrenaline wearing off. I remembered someone catching me. Or maybe it was two people, I couldn't tell. But I could definitely hear them distinctly say one beautiful phrase,

“You did good soldier, you did good.”


	9. Intentions and Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza and Jack take some much needed shore leave, and talk through the difficulties they just got through.

The following three days went by in a blur. I remember being chastised by Shepard for jeopardizing the galaxy by releasing the rachni queen and getting grilled by him. I was informed later that the rachni somehow got word to the Alliance that the mercy shown to their race would not go unrewarded as they ventured into uncharted regions of space to regain their numbers once again. Apparently they used the body of a salarian as an intermediary. I recall the crew, even Ashley, actually complimenting me for my quick thinking against Benezia and her commandos, saving their lives. Although Jack's idea of gratitude was a punch in the arm and buying me a drink later.

But it wasn't exactly praise all around. It still didn't change the fact that for the first time in my life I looked another person in the eyes, shot them in the face, then had to inform their next of kin that I did the deed for the greater good. To make matters worse it was someone that I liked.

There was also the fact that Benezia was even cybered up to begin with. Before I was even a part of this world she was under a more subtle form of manipulation by the Reaper Sovereign; the process known as indoctrination. Basically if you spend a prolonged amount of time near a Reaper they send out some sort of inaudible ultrasonic frequency that slowly alters your mind, making you more accepting and submissive to their influence. Instead she was one step away from cackling like a comic book supervillain and turning into a space elf Terminator.

It was a lot to unpack. Liara's mourning, the future of the crew, and how much my influence has altered these events and the events to come.

So I took Jack up on her offer of a drink after my meeting with Sha'ira on the Citadel. I'd tell you what the meetings with the Citadel's go to fortune teller and professional shoulder to cry on entailed, but there are things best left unsaid.

Chora's Den is in one of the seedier parts of the Citadel. Dark colors, a continuous thrum of electronica music pulsing through the world, dubious dealings done in the dark, and a lot of erotic asari dancers. Compared to other hives of ill repute found in the Terminus Systems, it might as well be Disneyworld but it's still a noticeable departure from the chaste pristine of the station's other locations.

Jack and I sat at the bar while a human bartender poured us some shots; one for me six for her. I downed the shot, it was some sort of blue liquid. I honestly didn't care as long as it was heady and gave me a small buzz. It did.

“Come on, blue. You sure you don't want to just get totally smashed?” she asked, casually pounding down three of the shot glasses. The bartender shot a look to me, waiting for my answer

I stared at my empty glass and shook my head, the booze already making it swim. “I'm not exactly a hard drinker, Jack. First time I had a hangover in my life I couldn't stand it. Don't like having my mind clouded up.”

Jack barked out a laugh and proudly threw back her fourth drink.

“Such a fucking lightweight because you like to think about stuff clearly? How's that working for you, blue?”

I turned away from her and focused on the dancers. Yes, they are hot and gyrating pleasantly, asari catch on really quick how desirable they are and some dedicate a few decades to skills of erotica. They were an easy distraction to have while I pondered.

“A brilliant Prothean scientist just lost her mother to some horrible mutilating cybernetic implants put into her by a genocidal maniac. I can't help but worry about her mental state right now, Jack.”

“Why? She's just some cream puff in a lab coat that helps Shepard deal with that weird Prothean shit we've been finding through our missions. How old is she? Like eighty or something?”

“One-hundred and six. Younger than me, practically a child. That's why I'm worried about her.”

Jack snorted and spat on the ground, much to the bartender's chagrin.

“So what? She'll get over it, parents are overrated,” Jack remarked, sucking down her fifth shot.

I had no response to that statement, not without showing my true nature nor without hitting a mine field of touchy subjects. So I just let her have her moment while the harsh red lights and flashing strobes showed off the sensual performances of the dancers. This was meant to be shore leave after all.

After a while one of the dancers came by bringing a sensual gait practiced to perfection, trailing her fingertips across Jack's neck and mine. My body shivered at the sensation while Jack seemed immune. She bent down between the two of us and whispered in a seductive tone,

“I'll be in the private booth with some friends in a few minutes. How about you two join me? I'll even give you a discount.” 

I think my skin went from blue to purple in an instant. Also I think my vocal chords started malfunctioning because I couldn't talk. As much as I tried reducing her behavior to just good business, this asari's pitch was just that good. It was beyond tempting too, especially after my session with Sha'ira ended with the assignment to “be more comfortable with my asari heritage.” But before I could say anything resembling a submissive yes, Jack responded first.

“Get lost, not interested,” her tone was fierce and harsh.

The dancer looked confused at the diverse reaction her approach yielded. But to her credit she retained her posture and still playfully walked away with a cute, “well if you change your mind,” and a blown kiss thrown in for good measure.

It took me a while to steady my breathing again, and the heat in my cheeks finally started to fade. I turned to face Jack. She just casually finished her sixth shot like nothing happened.

“Alright, Jack, you can not just tell me you weren't at least a little turned on by that,” I inquired.

“Variza, maybe your people are obligated to spread 'em for whoever seems nice at the time, but I ain't exactly a “girls club” kind of woman if you know what I mean.” She droned, her speech starting to slip into slurs.

“But technically asari aren't women, we just look like this,” I replied. My tone came out more demure than I ever thought possible.

“But you sure as hell act like them. Screw talking about feelings, screw being all flowery and caring, screw that whole “unity through passion” bullshit you always go on about with melding. I just want to get off and get out when it's over. Besides it's more honest that way.”

I kept quiet. I haven't exactly batted a thousand myself in terms of relationships and Jack has clearly lived a harsher life than most.

After another long silence she spoke up.

“You know I think that's why you and I get along, Variza,” she continued, her posture relaxing through all the poison in her system.

I met her gaze, genuinely curious.

“You talk way too much when you should be killing but you actually get it, unlike these blue tarts shaking it all around,” she motioned to the other dancers on the floor, all putting on different forms of acrobatic physical showmanship, “I mean every single squidhead I've always talked to keeps going on about being nurturing or sympathetic to those in the universe. Like they think they're better than me or some shit.”

She motioned to the bartender for another drink.

“But you actually had the balls to get right in my face and tried to slap me around. None of this olive branch stuff. You run out, get your hands bloody and don't try to dress it up. You got more hair on your chest than some of the losers in the Alliance, and you're not even human!”

“Jack, you're drunk,” I replied in a deadpan tone, “besides there are asari that spend centuries learning to be mercs.”

“But do they have an official military? Hell no. They have bankers and information brokers and doctors. They'd rather look like they're keeping the world from cutting itself to death out of the goodness of their hearts rather than just taking what they want. It's boring!” she practically yelled that last part.

Some of the dancers and bartenders started looking at us weird, the krogan bouncer was starting to get out of his seat. I had to defuse the situation.

“Are you forgetting that all that sympathy and love you think you're so above is what got me to stop Benezia from killing all of you?” I said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged it off, “Oh really? Cuz from what I saw it was the live grenades thrown into that monster's cage while you put a boot to her heel. All that talk was just you being you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She laughed a lot louder than I expected, causing me to jump.

“Your whole mind games thing you've been doing since I've met you. You're like the damn Shadow Broker or something! You might be a yappy dog but you got some bite!”

“Jack please I think you're getting a little disruptive,”

“As a matter of fact, she is,” the bartender interjected.

Well shit.

“I'm afraid I'll have to ask for you and your friend to leave this establishment.” she asked quietly.

I activated communications on my Omni-Tool and called Garrus and Tali to help Jack back on to the Normandy. They met us outside Chora's Den within about twenty minutes. Luckily for them they missed Jack slurring on about wanting to blow up something and then going on about not wanting to trust anyone again before losing consciousness.

Once Garrus and Tali had her safely back on the Normandy I had a small amount of time to check on something else I had cooking on the sidelines. I slipped away from the rest of the crew of the ship's docking bay and pulled up external communications.

The problem with the supplies Jump provided me for my ten years in this world is that the technology that supports them doesn't exist yet. Everything from my Paladin pistol to my Cain do not operate on the standard cooling system but a more advanced method that will become commonplace in about two years. Basically through a combination of improved materials and a greater focus on firepower, every single weapon became more powerful, we're talking the equivalent of a standard hand pistol being twice as deadly as a top of the line military hand cannon in terms of power difference. But all of this comes at the cost of utilizing a form of ammunition called thermal clips. A device that helps mitigate the large amounts of overheating and energy consumed for this newfound power. Without any clips I may be able to get two or three shots out of my pistol before the delicate parts inside melt into slag, this is to say nothing of my own portable tactical nuclear strike launcher. I've been getting by with a small collection of regular pistols and SMGs picked up in the field, but that well will dry up soon.

But if there's one thing I know about engineers and scientists, it's that they have a knack for figuring things out. And you can always count on asari to at least know a way to talk to the best of those scientists if you forward them about ten thousand credits

After fiddling around and entering in some information Jema provided me, the CO of the asari commando unit I had the foresight of keeping in contact with, the extranet communicator on my Omni-Tool turned on to reveal the image of the reptillian visage of a member of the Council, the Salarian Dalatrass.

“Hello? Who is this? How did you get access to this channel?” she responded, confused as to my unexpected call.

I activated some basic voice modulation to my voice and kept my video feed off.

“Hello your highness. For the sake of both our lives I must keep my identity secret but I am here to grant your people a grand opportunity to forward weapon craft in the galaxy by years. I wish to arrange a secret collaborative project with the Salarian Special Tasks Group to replicate some experimental weapons I have obtained in absolute confidence....”

After some contemplation, the Dalatrass responded, “You have my attention.”

We might stand a chance after all....


	10. Rising Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza's constant seeming knowledge of the future finally reaches a breaking point with Commander Shepard.

A month passed with us chasing leads on Saren. Despite us knowing his fascination with the Nu Relay we still couldn't figure out the exact destination once on the other side. There were too many factors working against us, so chasing leads was the best option we had. It would be embarrassing for us to go through the Relay only to be vaporized by Geth warships or Sovereign himself, and I was seriously beginning to doubt how much my own knowledge was still reliable.

That isn't to say we weren't busy.

There was an attempt to destroy Earth by a bunch of batarian terrorists weaponizing an asteroid with stolen warp drive engines. Alliance military called us in and we shut them down. The Batarians had hostages, Shepard didn't want to negotiate and wanted to just kill them as they stood. As much as I understood not wanting to take having your home planet blown up, I selectively disagreed and took a secondary team to get them free while Shepard, Garrus and Wrex did what they did best. I was reprimanded since it was against orders, guess I'll never get that medal I clearly deserve.

But other than the usual false leads, calls back to the Citadel to handle delicate matters between elected officials, and an admittedly amusing moment of “I told you so” when we were ambushed by pirates on a barren moon only to be rescued by a swarm of rachni, things were frustratingly going nowhere.

On a more personal matter things were... also frustratingly going nowhere.

Liara T'Soni wouldn't speak to anyone, mostly staying in her laboratory and coming out only for meetings and giving basic answers and updates on her research on Prothean tech. Very few members of the crew reached out to her and as for the ones that did, myself included, she kept waving things off.

When I tried pressing as to why she kept acting unusual, she turned the question back on me. Asari body, human mind, at least two dozen different cans of worms opened.

If I was still controlling Shepard he would have helped Liara deal with Benezia's death, soldier on, and then go on to make scintilating space love to her like James Kirk. But before I got thrown into this mix, Liara actually got out in the field with Shepard's crew, because putting an asari scientist that's a wunderkind with Prothean technology into active combat zones with only the most basic of training makes total tactical sense, and Commander Shepard acted more like...well me. A paragon of virtue wanting to do the right thing and not this...pragmatic militant dick.

However as a shadowy benefactor trying to push weapons development along by a few years, things were going hilariously well. Technically I didn't just drop ten thousand credits on a random asari merc and got in direct contact with the Salarian Dalatrass. The only other beings in the galaxy that could have that wealth of connections would be the Shadow Broker and the Illusive Man. The latter is a giant prick that I'd love to pull apart with my mind and the former is one that could do the same to me with a single word. Instead, I got a collection of contacts of various black market weapons manufacturers and off the books illegal modifiers, the intelligence agencies of the various races tracking them, and through some creative strokes to racial or galactic patriotism and some half-truths, got in contact with the heads of the Council which included the Dalatrass, the speaker for the asari, the head of the turian military, and Alliance Chief Admiral Hackett.

Then I gave every single one of them weapon scans and exhaustive technical information of my Paladin pistol for them to hand off to their respective R&D divisions; from there I watched the fireworks go off. The low level criminal scum would love to utilize this tech in order to forward their agenda and so they would bust their asses to figure it out. I gave the various intel communities the locations of these operations in order to shut them down and take in any work they made in that field, because technology is technology regardless of motives. Meanwhile the military fields of some of the smartest races in the galaxy were racing against each other to reverse engineer my enhanced weapons and the thermal clip tech as well. This is also to say nothing of prototypes being worked on already that I'm not aware of getting a huge shot in the arm by how saturated the galactic science community will be with field tests and theory.

I have effectively kicked off a new arms race behind the scenes. Now I just need to be sure Saren is dead before he uses this stuff against us. It is one hell of a gamble, one worthy of the Commander Shepard I thought I knew.

It'd be freaking embarrassing if it blew up in my face.

Then, it happened.

A mere two months after my seeds were thrown to the cosmic winds and after a lot of dead-ends, we found out where Saren was operating: A recently captured Salarian Scientific Research Facility on the planet Virmire.

According to a joint venture with the Salarian Special Tasks Group and Alliance Intelligence it was made abundantly clear what exactly Saren and his Geth were after at the facility. The first was what I was expecting and dreading: using the abundant scientific research the salarians had in order to cure the krogan of the Genophage. But have that cure permanently tied to further genetic tampering to make the krogan race entirely obedient to Saren.

He's putting one of the deadliest races in the galaxy on a genetic leash and using them as shock troops for the Reapers. 

My only comforting thought at this reveal at the meeting was that everyone looked like they lost five years off their life expectancy. Except Wrex, he looked like he was in the climax of a living nightmare with a century of his life gone at the revelation. And that giant tank of an alien is nine-hundred years young. Do the math, I can't; I'm in shock.

We began arming up and made contact with the STG unit and coordinated our assault. The plan was to infiltrate the facility by dividing up into separate teams, destroy the krogan shock troops and any other opposition we came across, erase all data of the Genophage cure, and then blow up the facility with a bomb placed at its center. And of course if possible, kill Saren if we see him on site.

I did a sweep of the STG's base camp, looking for what could be a WIP thermal clip. No dice. The salarians are good but they're not that good.

However, I was around in time to stop Ashley Williams from pulling a total dick move. Wrex had some very strong emotions about effectively blowing up twisted versions of his own people. For all of his gruffness, Wrex actually wants to re-unite his people and his world's culture, rebuild their society as something less feral and more deliberate. At the same time a potential cure for his race's mass sterilization was something he didn't want to see exterminated.  
Shepard was yelling at him for stepping out of line, even outright telling him these krogan weren't his people and a cure would come with subjugation.

Wrex wasn't backing down. It almost looked like he was going to rip Shepard's arms off.

I then saw Ashley reach for her pistol with intent to fire on Wrex. I used my biotics to give that pistol the weight of fifty tons and watched her crumble to the ground.

“What the hell are you doing, Variza!?” She yelled.

“Stopping you from disobeying the Commander and making a huge mistake.” I remarked.

She left her pistol and went to ready her rifle, but I already had my pistol drawn and in her face.

“Trust me, Williams, I don't want to do this but you need to trust Shepard to say the right thing.”

I was then knocked off my feet by a thrown Shepard. Lifted off the ground by a royally pissed off krogan Battlemaster.

“Do you really think I don't understand the opportunity I have here Shepard?!” Wrex roared, looming over us like a harbinger of doom.

“Either I take this cure and bring it to the right people or my people will continue to wither and die! I don't care about killing other krogan, I care about how these salarians are gonna make this whole thing vanish! If you won't help me with that I'll go by myself!”

The look in Shepard's eyes frightened me, and it wasn't just because it was millimeters away from mine and separated by a helmet visor. It was the look of a man that had to put a dog down. It wasn't anger or indignation, it was pained resignation.

I saw him reach for his shotgun. I grabbed his arm and shot him back another look.

“Wrex, wait” I called out, putting up my hands in a sign of surrender. The good news is he let me get on my feet before he came after me.

“Stay out of this Variza. Last I checked you were just a penal troop, not the CO of this operation,” he growled as he balled up his fists, them coursing with biotic energy. Well at least I won't leave a body if this goes wrong.

I slowly removed my helmet and peeled the gauntlets off my suit.

“I know you don't trust me but...I need to show you something from my mind. I won't say this will convince you to stay or not, but I think it'll help you calm down,” I calmly spoke.

“Variza, what are you doing?” Shepard responded, his hand still on the handle of his shotgun ready to go. The rest of the crew and the STG had the same looks on their faces, all their weapons drawn and pointing to the enraged Krogan.

Wrex took a step closer to me and got in my face, his breath hot and reeking of death.

“Better be something quite serene, Variza, or else I'm taking you with me to the beyond,” he said in an unbelievably icy tone.

I gulped and barely stopped my knees from shaking. I finally put my hand to the side of Wrex's face, caressing his temple and moving around his eye and jawline.

“Very well. Urdnot Wrex...embrace eternity,” I declared, beginning a mind meld with the krogan warrior.

As mentioned before, asari have an unusual way of interfacing with other alien races' nervous systems as a means of procreation. But another more focused ability by the race is imparting knowledge, ideas, or even images to a willing participant by interacting with their mind. It's how Liara has helped Shepard make sense of the various Prothean information that's been shoved into his brain by the various clues left behind during our missions.

Now it was going to help me with Wrex.

I pressed into his mind the various futures spinning out from this moment, using scenes and battles from my knowledge of the game. Admittedly it was uncanny as hell to go from flesh and blood to pixels and polygons but it had the right effect.

Possibility number one: Wrex dies. The mission goes on as normal and eventually we go on to kill Saren and stop Sovereign. The Genophage remains uncured and krogan society continues to squabble amongst itself. Eventually a leader does arrive, and it is a relative of Wrex's: Urdnot Wreav. An utterly unlikeable character of the kind of chest-pounding aggressive stone age warrior mentality that Wrex despises. He leads the Krogan into the impending war with the Reapers, as their giant ships reign fire on Tuchanka, all to go after the carrot on the stick that is a cure for the Genophage, whipped together by the salarians and turians to convince them to aid in the war. Except the Genophage is sabotaged, and the krogan join the galaxy on a doomed path to destruction.

Possibility number two: Wrex lives. He takes Wreav's place, bides his time, and the krogan earn their place to demand a cure when the Reapers come and things turn out better.

But then I added too much. My frustration at Ashley killing Wrex before Shepard could talk him down. Flashes of me talking to friends back home about wishing Wrex stayed alive and how I should start a new save file.

I broke contact and stepped away from Wrex.

He looked utterly stunned at what he had saw.

“Variza...what the hell are you?”

“Someone you should trust.” I responded, my hands still out, my face still presented, “there will be other battles, this is just a bitter pill you'll have to swallow to get there.”

There was an intense silence that seemed to last for an eternity.

It finally ended when Wrex turned around and walked back to collect his weaponry.

“You can thank Variza for this, Shepard. But if any of you pull weapons on me again, there isn't a single doctor in the galaxy that will recognize your remains when I'm done with you.” He grunted.

Shepard and the entire crew turned to me, dumbfounded.

“I know I know, we're gonna have a talk about this when we get back, right?” I remarked.

Shepard just activated his comms.

“Joker, bring the Normandy around to to pick up Miss T'Som and escort her from the combat zone,”

“Roger that, Commander,”

“What!?” I blared out, utterly devastated.

“You have continuously disobeyed my orders, I can't have you going off half-cocked on a delicate operation like this. You're a liability so I'm discharging you from it. You're dismissed, Variza!”


	11. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza finally reveals her true nature to Commander Shepard. Worse still, The Reapers seem to come to a similar conclusion...

I hated Commander Shepard for how thoroughly he put me away on the Normandy. My hands were tied. My Omni-Tool was taken. Despite my desperate pleas to bring it along for the mission, my Loki mech was de-activated and put into storage. Tali even whipped up a suppression field to de-activate my biotics in case I tried anything. All while in a featureless room in the cargo hold with lots of cameras.

I officially hit rock bottom.  
I was taken off one of the most crucial missions in galactic history. The chance to salvage some of the research into the Genophage cure for use as a bargaining chip in the future, first contact with Sovereign, the opportunity to make sure no one dies if and when the bomb malfunctions facilitating the need for a manual override, and of course the opportunity to kill Saren right then and there before the final leg of his plan. Because I'm too unpredictable for him. I'd kick something and scream if I wasn't stuck on my duff.

Yep, the universe does have a sick sense of humor.

Time went by in a haze. There was no clock, no officials came to check up on me, although I had to assume Joker was keeping tabs on me while piloting, and there were no windows nearby. It was absolute torture.

It was when I felt the ship rock and tilt like a ship on choppy seas that I understood what had finally happened. The lab on Virmire was destroyed, all that remained were the details.

It was about two minutes later that Commander Shepard walked in. What surprised me was that Jack was with him.

“What did I say, Jack? You're taking orders and helping save the galaxy. I knew you started to care,” I stated, forcing a smile while looking between her and Shepard.

Her expression made it clear she wasn't having any of my flattery. She walked up and grabbed me by the throat, lifting me off the ground with her grip like iron.

“Shut up,” she growled, her tone cold.

“I'm only going to ask this question once. Who are you?” Shepard asked, hot anger behind his words.

“Variza T'Som, young asari with aspirations of becoming a consort, using her gifts of divining the future to try to make a better present,” I said in as practiced a tone as I could.

Shepard hit me with a right cross.

“Wrong answer!” He yelled.

“Alright...what happened down there? Did Saren mention me or something?” I replied, my head spinning and stars in my eyes.

“Jack help me out here.” Shepard quickly responded and walked off. She obliged, cracking her knuckles.

She pulled up a chair, sat down and grabbed me by the lower jaw, her stare terrifying.

“I was with Shepard on Virmire as we tore through Saren's krogan mooks. Everything went along smoothly until we hit an information bank and got to speak with Sovereign. Guess what he had to say?”

“I dunno, something about how we are mere insects struggling against cosmic winds and some ominous yet pretentious nonsense about how our lives will end because they will it?” I managed to spurt out. Something tells me it wasn't as off-color as it could have been due to having my lower jaw in the grasp of a psychotic biotic.

She tightened her grip, “He said not to trust you!” she yelled.

I blinked. She let go of my face.

“Jack has known you the longest. You did time together, you escaped together. You knew things about her that are in sealed documents-”

“I told you I see things, Shepard,” I interrupted.

“No clairvoyant is that precise. Asari consorts are loose at best and even the programs used to predict weather on multiple different planets are within a considerable margin of error!” Shepard yelled, cutting me off.

I looked away, his stare could melt the ice caps.

“Every crucial mission we've been on, you have acted like you were reading from a script. Going off half-cocked, ignoring the chain of command to find something that we weren't aware of or to save some random civilians like you're trying to become a saint.”

“Isn't that what we're here to do? To save lives?”

“That's why we stick to the mission!”

“Then there's those deals you been making on the side, blue.” Jack chimed in, smiling like a snake that just found its dinner.

I remained silent.

“You've been giving away top-secret weapon plans to multiple agencies, including criminal organizations instead of handing over your knowledge to the Alliance.”

“Technically I did give copies to the Alliance and I gave the locations of my black market contacts to the various law enforcement agencies so technically it's a sting operation.” I answered.

“A sting operation unrecognized by any covert ops group by a person with no credible experience in the field whatsoever from an easily traceable device on a ship that needs to remain unseen due to the nature of its mission.” Shepard rebutted, his anger beginning to boil over.

“All of what you just accused me of is technically not illegal, and despite me being under your command I am not a soldier of any military operation. So unless Sovereign flat out told you I'm a Reaper sleeper agent or some nonsense I think you just don't like me and are using this as grounds to throw me back in my cell.”

“Jack, play the recording,” Shepard responded sharply, turning his back to me. I could hear him taking some deep breaths.

Then Jack activated her Omni-Tool.

“So you're one of these Reapers we've been hearing so much about?” Shepard's voice came from the orange glow of the device, clear as a bell.

What came next was a voice that was the stuff of nightmares.

“REAPER? A LABEL BY THE PROTHEANS TO GIVE WEIGHT TO THEIR PLIGHT. WHATEVER YOU CALL US DOES NOT MATTER. YOU EXIST BECAUSE WE ALLOW IT. AND YOU SHALL DIE BECAUSE WE COMMAND IT.”

Even in person and when you've heard it before it's still unsettling.

“Sorry but we're putting an end to this extermination. Kaiden do you have the bomb in place?”

“Oh I'm afraid that is quite impossible Shepard,” remarked a third voice.

A turian voice. Saren.  
“How did you get on this transmission line?” Shepard demanded, barely keeping his shock in check.

“Oh that's simple, Sovereign plugged me in. It's amazing how much you can do when you offer yourself willingly to the Reapers,” he responded in a unsettling stoic tone, “ but that's the least of your worries right now since we've shut off external communications to your ship and are getting ready to blow your ship out of the sky. A stealth drive doesn't work if we can just see your ship now does it?”

“You're a freaking puppet to them and you don't even know it!” Shepard yelled, the sounds of conflict happening in the background.

“Ahh but you'd know all about that wouldn't you Shepard?” Saren responded.

“What are you talking about?”

“THE ONE WITH NO PAST WHO ACTS AS IF THE FUTURE IS PRESENT.” Sovereign bellowed.

“Your own personal wolf in sheep's clothing. Of all the grand knowledge of the universe the Reapers have accrued and how insignificant your attempts to defy have been, you are predictably human. But her... she is different. But of course we'll deal with her in due time once you and your lackeys are dead.”

“Saren you son of a bitch!” Shepard yelled.

The transmission cut off to static.

Shepard finally turned back to face me again.

“I'll ask you one last time... who are you?”

I slowly got up and met his stare.

“It was Kaiden wasn't it? He stayed behind to try to stop the bomb from going off, didn't he?”

“Whatever tech stuff Saren and his geth did to hijack the timer, Kaiden did as much as he could to buy us enough time to sabotage the cloning vats and the Genophage research. He's the reason we're even here,” Jack responded, her hands going to some nasty bullet wounds and cuts on her body.

“Stop changing the subject! I asked you a question. And if you don't answer me right now I will make sure you never see star light ever again!”

It takes a lot to get me angry. I used to have a short temper once upon a time but a decade of martial arts and meditation helps with that. Shepard yelling at me was a mild inconvenience. However, the fact that the Reapers know about me and what I am, and have been using that as a means to step up their game truly got under my skin. The horrific modification of Benezia, how she was unrecognizable as a loving mother to her own daughter. Saren becoming some sort of monstrous mediator for them, giving up whatever sentience he has left. His more cutthroat tactics. The fact that several events have been playing out differently. All because of me.

I caused this. This world full of hope in the face of darkness has become a crueler place because of me.

And the man who should be a paragon of virtue is threatening to throw me in jail.

“Jack...leave the room.” I said through clenched teeth.

“Jack is staying right where she is,”

“Don't I get a say in this?” Jack replied, somewhat confused.

“If you really want to know the truth Shepard, you will shut off all surveillance equipment to this room, tell Jack to leave the room, and undo my restraints. You do that I'll tell you everything whether you like it or not.”

After some consideration, Shepard nodded to Jack. She complied. He then hit several buttons on his own Omni-Tool and unbound me.

“Alright, here's the full truth. I'm actually a young man from the twenty-first century in the body of an asari. And your adventures are from...interactive fiction I enjoyed. That's why I know what's going to happen, I've experienced it before with you as my avatar.” I said it a lot faster than I should have.

Shepard raised an eyebrow at me like I was crazy.

“Get out of this room, Variza. I'm calling the Council to have you transferred.”

And that's where I finally lost it.

I slammed Shepard into the wall with my biotics, pinning his arms to his sides with my telekinetic strength. He was palming a pistol, I saw it clatter to the ground.

“Goddammit Shepard! You should be a bona fide hero to this world! Not this simple military asshole! All that off the books stuff I was doing was supposed to be you! Showing us what we're fighting for, not aiming at what we're fighting against! I learned all of that from watching you because I wanted you to see what it was like to be the best of us! The best of humanity!”

“Ideals are easy when you aren't on the ground,” Shepard managed to choke out under the shear force of weight I had on him.

I pulled him off the wall towards me, his toes barely touching the ground.

“That is the biggest load of one-hundred percent organic non-GMO bullshit I've ever heard! You want to see how easy it is sticking to your ideals in the field. Fine! Fucking embrace eternity!”

And I reached my hands out to his temples and I gave him the full picture with my mind meld.

Shepard discovering the Prothean bean on Eden Prime. His induction into the Spectres. His chase after Saren and the adventures he had along the way. How he saved everyone on Zhu's Hope and spared the rachni. How he talked down Wrex on Virmire and discovered the secrets of the Conduit past the Nu Relay. His final battle against Saren and the galaxy's triumph over Sovereign. His comfort and eventual blossoming romance with Liara.

His death. His rebirth. His recruitment into Cerberus.

The suicide mission through the Omega-4 Relay. The fall of the Shadow Broker. The horrors of Project Overlord. The Reapers taking Earth. The Reaper War. The fact that every single race he showed mercy to came back to fight the good fight and bought the galaxy precious time against this grand threat. The Crucible project. The battle for Earth with every single race in the galaxy hinging on his word. His final death and the bittersweet victory. Everyone paying respects at his memorial for breaking a cycle that was perpetuated for millenia, a legacy of hope and triumph.

Then every other variation I had. Versions where Shepard was a woman. Versions where he was cold and harsh, and how he sacrificed countless trillions to get the job done. Versions where I didn't commit and the galaxy collapsed. All the variations I could muster.

I pulled away and let him drop. I stepped away and caught my breath, doing a mind meld and holding him up was too much to handle at once.

Shepard coughed and held his chest, his face pale as a ghost.

“Why did you show me this?”

I dropped to my knees and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Because I wanted you to see yourself the way I do. A hero.”

Shepard slowly put his hand on mine and looked up to me, his eyes shaking from how much information was thrown at him.  
“I... need to sit down. I'll call you in to the next squad meeting to discuss our next move.”

Then he got up and left.


	12. Reforged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Variza slowly mend their relationship and work together to reach Ilos and stop Saren

On reflection hitting Commander Shepard with a mental bombshell after what he went through on Virmire was not the best decision I could have made.

While the facility's primary function was to crank out krogan shock troops completely Genophage-free, it was also a testing ground for Sovereign's indoctrination ability, to bring in even more people under his influence without any obvious and intrusive cybernetic mutilation. Shepard and the others left them to their fates, although from the reports and footage I saw captured by Tali and Captain Kirrahe of the STG they were either unresponsive or comatose. Poor souls.

It also didn't help that Shepard found another intact Prothean Beacon in the facility and got more of their knowledge beamed directly into his brain, with Dr. T'Soni helping him make sense of it all.

There is also the fact of what Shepard also discovered on Virmire. Sovereign most likely explained it to him in a condescending tone but it's still haunting nonetheless. The entire Milky Way Galaxy has an entire network of Mass Relays, large structures that ships use in order to blast at much faster speeds to reach other systems. I wasn't being flippant when I described them as an intergalactic highway system. But while the galaxy as a whole think the technologically superior Protheans created them, the truth is they're about as old as the Reapers. Worse still, their entire placement in the galaxy is to help facilitate the growth of a galactic civilization exactly to the specifications of the Reapers so when they arrive once every fifty-thousand years they can efficiently eradicate the population. And the key is the Galactic Citadel, the very center of power, would be how the Reapers would come through to begin their harvest from their safe abode in dark space.

The most widespread means of travel for this entire galaxy is actually an intricate spider web. Worse still, the Conduit that Saren has been looking for this whole time will help call the spiders.

So in anger I just slammed an elite military commander with at least three textbooks of existential dread weighing on him after he got away from a near death experience, left one of his soldiers and untold innocents to die, and had more nightmare fuel of an advanced alien race being wiped out by all-powerful sentient machines forced into his mind.

Alright, I think that definitely makes me disqualified for a medal. In fact it seriously puts me on the docket for some legitimate jail time. And a second opinion on the whole sociopath thing.

The worst part of it is Shepard finally figured out the origin point of all of his visions: the lost Prothean world of Ilos. A planet whose system is accessible through the Mu Relay. The origin of the Conduit. We could finally end Saren's plans. And I finally had the opportunity to try one last big plan to make things right.

And yet all of us are stuck on the Normandy. Locked down on the Citadel because Shepard brought all of this up to the Council. Their response to finding out about Saren's plan was to deploy an entire fleet to the Mass Relays leading to the Mu Relay and then put the entire the rest of the fleet on standby at the Citadel itself, including the Council's own flagship the Destiny Ascension.

To be fair, it's a miracle his brain wasn't fully reduced to pudding when he told the Council, and they still haven't fully bought the admittedly ludicrous story of thousands of genocidal large machines heralding doom. But they do know how big of a threat the geth are and just how dangerous Saren can be, so they split the difference with mobilizing the fleet and then docking the Normandy; it's focus is stealth and recon, not war.

But I was still fighting tooth and nail to get our butts to Ilos.

The fleet wasn't going to be enough. Everyone on the Citadel was going to die. And the Conduit isn't the only thing of value that Ilos holds.

It took some convincing but I did manage to get some of the crew behind me. The plan was to leave most of the team behind on the Citadel to keep up the appearance that we were on shore leave while a skeleton crew remained on the ship. The Council's ambassadors would arrive on the Normandy in person for a final debriefing on Commander Shepard's mission with Saren. The plan was to allow the council onboard the Normandy due to Shepard's less than stellar mental state, and then before they depart get the Normandy out of lockdown and take off to Ilos with them in tow.

It would just be me, Shepard, Jack, and Tali going into the unknown, with at least several different war crimes and what can easily be construed as high treason trailing behind us.

Everything was in place and about to go off. I just had to check on Shepard. We needed our leader after all.

I headed to his quarters but stopped before entering. The last thing he'd want to see would be an asari trying to comfort him after everything that happened. But this had to be done, the galaxy was at stake and despite how much I've learned, I'm not a hardened military commander.

I took some deep breaths and steeled my nerves for the worst, then opened the door.

Commander Shepard looked up in shock from his bed, Liara next to him topless and trying desperately to cover herself with the sheets. I immediately looked away in embarrassment.

“Sorry! I'll come back later once you're decent,” I blurted out while trying to close the door again, “but just know that it's important!”

Alright how the hell did that happen behind my back? Of all the things I showed Shepard in the mind meld, I tried to omit too much romantic intention. There are certain things you just don't impose on a person and who you are supposed to fall in love with is one of them.

Still, it made a certain level of sense. Liara does harbor a certain love for the human race, how much progress they make and how confidently they do it in such a short amount of time. Short by asari standards of course. And Shepard has effectively coordinated the resolution of several major catastrophic incidents, and prevented terrorist attacks, all while chasing after a rogue Spectre and trying to prevent galactic extinction. In the span of about six months.

Then he vanishes into his room, probably crushed by the weight of it all. And asari are naturally maternal....

As I was mulling that over I saw Dr. T'Soni leave Shepard's room dressed in her lab coat again, her face a flushed dark blue. She threw me a quick look of persecution, but I just gave her a genuinely warm smile back.

“Nice to see you found someone, doctor,”

She shot me a small smile before speed walking back to her lab.

I knocked on Shepard's door just to make sure he was decent, then stepped inside.

“Hey,” I mumbled.

There was an uneasy pause.

“Hey,” he responded back.

Truly, I am a master of conversation.

I cleared my throat and tentatively walked towards him.

“Look, Shepard. I'm sorry. All of that was my burden to bear. You shouldn't have-”

“Variza, it's fine.” He interjected.

“You're...fine with being shown how your life will go?” I asked, puzzled.

Shepard sat down at a desk near the wall then turned to face me.

“What was the name of my friend that I lost at the battle of Akuze?” He asked, his face like steel.

I was utterly confused. Akuze was a battleground that Shepard was a part of. The sole survivor of a mission gone wrong when a Thresher Maw tore apart his unit. But his friend?

“His name was Flint Adams. Had a wife and two kids. We got a long well enough on shore leave. We even said once the mission was over we'd go biking together back on Earth. I attended his funeral after the Alliance found me.” he looked away every once in a while, his hand noticeably tensing. It was definitely a strong memory.

“I'm sorry” was the best thing I could respond with.

“So you don't know everything about my past,” he responded and got up.

“Here's another question then. If everything you showed me is set in stone, why did our encounter with Benezia and Virmire go so differently?”

“Because I was involved. Because I tried changing things. Because I tried changing you.”

Shepard then clapped a hand on my shoulder and actually gave me a genuine smile.

“Do you hear me complaining?”

Wait what?

“Let's just say I needed that reminder that sometimes there's more than just the mission.” he said, reading my face.

He extended his hand and nodded for me to take it. I didn't hesitate, his grip solid and firm.

“You do realize that I'm planning something highly illegal right now in order to save the galaxy right?”

“I'm not that surprised at all.” he said with a chuckle, “need some help?”

It went off without a hitch. The Council Ambassadors raised a stink about basically being taken hostage, but by the time they tried to hail the fleet to reduce us to scrap we were long for the nearest Relay out of the system. After that it was a matter of getting the Mu Relay through both Saren and the Alliance's fleet. Thank the goddess for the Normandy's stealth drive and the the giant armada-sized distraction.

Note to self, I may have taken Shaira's lessons about asari culture I little too well.

We got into orbit around Ilos, but the bombardment by Saren's fleet was too much for a precise landing at the location of the Prothean ruins. Joker suggested a near suicidal orbital drop of the Mako rover with us inside it, taking the Council with us. I had a much better idea....

With some adept piloting by Jack, our Kodiak shuttle breached the atmosphere of the planet and got through some additional anti-air blasts by some Geth Colossi. We hit the dirt hard and were on the ground within seconds.

Just in time to see Saren and a squad of Geth Prime enter some sort of ancient elevator in the Prothean Ruins, two large stone doors closing behind them.

I barked at Jack and we both sprung into action. Throwing our biotic power at the doors keeping them ajar, Shepard and Tali moving to cover us from geth plasma fire.

Good news, I was starting to keep pace with Jack in terms of strength and endurance. Bad news was these ancient doors were clearly built to withstand bunker busting bombs. We had maybe ten seconds tops before those doors would close. Thankfully, we had a quarian engineer on hand, and she is amazing under pressure.

I'd honestly explain the physics and calculations she underwent in order to get the wedge in the door just right, but frankly that's why she's a genius in her field and I'm not. We slipped into the elevator, and the Council was coming with us.

“By the spirits, Shepard what is the meaning of all of this!?” The turian head demanded.

“If we survive all of this, our first act is to remove you from the Spectres and have you court martialed!” The salarian dalatrass exclaimed.

But before the asari councilor could get a word in, the elevator reached its destination.

“Key'lah. What is this place?” Tali gasped.

“You're looking at the resting place of the last of the Protheans, the remains of their scientific initiative.”

“What are we looking for?” Jack asked.

“Two things. A still functioning Prothean VI program. Shepard should be able to understand it thanks to all the Prothean stuff kicking around in his skull. It'll tell us about the Conduit.”

“and the second thing?”

“The plans for something called the Crucible Project.”


	13. Digging and Racing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep in the Prothean Tomb, Variza and Shepard desperately search for a way to prevent the pending return of The Reapers.

The Councilors stayed with Shepard as he spoke to the VI known as Vigil, asking the big questions about the Conduit and what had become of the Protheans in the thousands of stasis pods surrounding us. As for Tali and me, we were scanning those pods, looking for a needle in the world's largest haystack with a tiny magnet.

“So let me get this straight, Variza,” Tali opened, “you and I are sitting in a perfectly preserved archive of stasis pods containing the remains of the highly advanced Prothean Empire, and rather than listening to the VI as to why, you're looking around for blueprints to a weapon? Instead of trying to revive them for help?”

I stopped tapping on my Omni-Tool for a moment to stroke my chin, “Yeah, that about sums it up,” I replied.

Tali turned and gave me a look. At least I think so. It's hard to tell with the helmet.

“Don't you think that's a little narrow-minded?” she said, an eyebrow clearly raised behind her visor.

“Well, the problem is the Protheans here are basically lost. Right now, Shepard and the Council are hearing straight from the VI in charge of this facility that to keep things together it had to shut down vital life support for the more disposable populace.” I shrugged, “In a way you could consider this grave-robbing. Don't your people encourage letting nothing go to waste while on the Migrant Fleet?”  
Tali tilts her head in contemplation. After a few moments she met my gaze again, “I suppose you're right, Variza,” she started tapping several new tabs on her Omni-Tool's holo display.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Overclocking the CPU while diverting processing power from the background functions in the OS. Of course this means no extranet access but honestly I think that's the least of our worries right now.”

I gave Tali an honest thumbs-up. Quarians, with them if there's a will, there's a way.

She moved her glowing arm across the thousands of of pods strung throughout the walls, allowing the glow of the scan to reach them. She shook her head in frustration.

“Nothing,” she quietly growled,

“Keep going, we only have so much time before Shepard and the Council finish talking to the VI.”

“Yeah, sure, keep going on about looking for a blueprint while the stiffs talk to another stiff. Makes me feel real helpful right now, blue.” Jack hissed behind me, casually sitting on one of the Prothean pods that were a few feet up.

“Oh I'm sorry, Jack. Do you want a cookie for not killing us in that suicide drop?” I chided, flashing her a venomous grin.

“I want something to shoot or something to do.” she seethed.

“She does have a point Variza. Technically she's the only one here not contributing.” Tali chimed in after shaking her head on a second reading.

“What about Garrus?” Jack asked.

“He's doing some target practice on Saren's back guard of geth farther down using a sniper nest he found. Making sure the numbers don't backtrack and overwhelm us.” I responded.

There was the distinct crack in the air, followed by high pitched squealing in the distance reverberating down the halls,

“Three for three.” Garrus muttered to himself, adjusting his sights.

“Oh sure, he gets to do something fun,” Jack retorted.

“Do you know how to scan an area of thousands of pods looking for the document of something with only a vague understanding of Prothean language to go on while using a simple Omni-Tool you have personally jailbreaked for optimization?” Tali threw back.

Jack didn't say anything, she just spat on the ground.

“That's what I thought.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose in stress and sighed, making my way towards Jack.

“If you really need something to do, we need you to get back up top and get the Kodiak shuttle down here.” I suggested.

“Oh sure, why don't you ask me to boil some water and rip up some sheets while you're at it,” she sneered, shooting me a cold stare. I just rolled my eyes.

“Don't you find it a little unnerving that after we chased him through this elevator there aren't more geth trying to kill us?”

Jack looked away, “It crossed my mind,” she admitted.

“Which is why right now either they're up there blowing up our ride, or they have something further down towards the Conduit that will blow us all to gooey bits. Which is why we need a fast ship and a pilot who knows how to navigate tight spaces.” I put emphasis on my last few words, putting all of my flattery into them. Jack flashed my a toothy grin in response.

“Gimme five minutes, blue.” she replied fiercely, running back to the ancient elevator and readying her pistol.

I leaned back against one of the Prothean pods to catch my breath. Alright, I think I got all my bases covered. Now I just need to wait for pay off... and hope that Saren hasn't already started the end of the galaxy yet.

My heartbeat started escalating and everything suddenly got ten degrees hotter. I immediately closed my eyes started taking deep breaths.

Inhale, count to seven. Exhale slowly, count to five. Repeat.

It was after about my fifth breath that my heart stopped doing drum solos on my ribcage. If I survive all of this; no, when I survive all of this, I am so going to give Jump a piece of my mind.

It was after my tenth breath that Shepard came by to with the Council to check up on me and Tali. The councilors looked like someone just told them the exact moment the world was going to end, quite appropriate on reflection. As for Shepard, he was readying his rifle, his face turning into a soldier's steely resolve.

“How goes the search, Tali?” Shepard asked.

“Not exactly the best. It would take at least a dozen other quarian scavengers at least two weeks to scavenge this entire chamber to look for the Crucible blueprints, if it was even here.” Tali sighed, giving her Omni-Tool one last scan. “And according to what scans I was able to get of this place, I've barely covered five percent of this facility.” she added with a twinge of defeat.

“Whatever helps narrow down the search team's findings Tali, my contacts at the STG will appreciate it when they begin their expedition after all this.” The salarian dalatrass interjected.

I tried to force a smile from that comment. At least this wasn't a total loss.

“What about you, Variza?” Shepard asked, apparently noticing how I was still shaking a little.  
“Oh you know just unbelievable stress brought on by remembering the full scope of what we're up against,” I chuckled nervously, “and I'm trying not to have a heart attack.”

The asari councilor gave me a quizzical look, “How long have you been a mercenary?”

“How long have you been aware that we are a possible few short hours away from galaxy wide annihilation?” I snapped back. The councilor stayed quiet, her expression penitent.

“So what have you got, Shepard?” I responded, desperately wanting to change the subject.

“Everything I need. An access card by Vigil that will grant me access to all functions of the Citadel so we can shut down Saren calling in the Reapers. Now we just need to get to the Conduit, and we need to get there fast.”

As a response to Shepard's demand for expedience, we all were greeted with the assault on the ears that is metal and plastic moving at high speeds while scraping against ancient stone masonry, followed by the strong hum of the propulsion jets of the Kodiak shuttle. The shuttle doors flew open as it hovered near us, with Jack in the pilot's seat yelling for everyone to get in.

“So what exactly is the Conduit and why were all these Protheans here again? I was a little too busy looking for a superweapon blueprint to get the primer.” Tali asked as best she could through the rocky ride Jack was taking us on.

“Basically it was an off switch for the Reapers pouring in through the Citadel and breaking the Prothean empire. When they last came, they just poured in en masse from their galactic center and destroyed the chain of command, leaving everywhere else floundering with no leadership or info as to what was going on.”

“Which explains why Prothean records of the Reapers were so scarce. They were learning during the extermination process.” The turian councilor mused.

“Exactly. The beacons we discovered were warnings, but got damaged over time, which is why the info was fractured.”

“Which is why we originally wrote them off as unreliable testimony in your trial against Saren before.” The asari councilor said mostly to herself.

The shuttle lurched hard on the left side, accompanying a thunderous ripping sound outside.

“Sorry, following these caverns is starting to get really tricky. Right angles are hard to navigate when you have a time limit!” Jack barked.

“As for the Prothean pods. Their scientists figured out how the Citadel was the key to the Reapers arriving through dark space and spent the last few weeks of their existence working on a device that would allow them to travel across the galaxy back to the Citadel, and with the research they gathered before about inner workings of the station, shut down their way in. To buy the next generation of life, us, some more precious time.”

“Hence, the Conduit.” I interjected. Shepard pointed to me in approval.  
“The problem was they had to... wait out the Reapers' extermination of their empire for them to follow through on their plan.” Shepard's tone became noticeably grim with those final words.

“They had to go into deep sleep and bide their time while their worlds burned around them, all just to stop the next generation of the cycle from happening. Well, that's ominous.” Garrus muttered introspectively while checking his weapons.

“So why exactly didn't we just stay at the Citadel and wait for Saren to come to us?” Tali inquired.

“Because where the Conduit drops you off is in a location locked off from the rest of the populace. A sort of command center for the whole station” Shepard responded.

That's... different. Originally the exit point of the cosmic shortcut was back at a seemingly innocuous model of a mass relay back in the Citadel's presidium. Come to think of it, that was a little too convenient....

“And if Saren makes his way there... he can manually shut off what the Protheans did!” Tali exclaimed in shock.

“Which is exactly why I'm trying to get us there without getting crushed like a can of sardines.” Jack exclaimed.

“That still raises the big question, Shepard? Why did you decide to bring us along?” The asari councilor asked.

“Short answer, if you stayed at the Citadel, you would have all died and the galaxy would be without leadership at its most desperate hour.” Shepard responded.

“Long answer, even if you did survive there would still be no way in hell you would believe half of this unless we showed you directly, and I'm completely sick and tired of dealing with cosmic red tape to get the job done. So we thought, let's shove the truth in your faces so we can all get on the same page faster.” I chimed in, trying my best to keep my forked tongue in check.

The councilors gave me a mixed reaction of shock, indignation and anger. Hey, I said I tried.

“Alright! I got some good news and bad news assholes! The good news is I think I found the Conduit!” Jack called out, exclaiming over explosions and the screeches of ripping metal.

“Big, circular and has a giant blue beam coming out of it?” I asked.

“Yeah!”

“That's it!”

“Great, that's the good news! The bad news is there are about six dozen geth colossi and primes surrounding it and they all have target locks on us!”

Before I could even think about how suicidal it was I spoke up, “Full speed Jack! Everyone else buckle in!”

“Are you crazy!?” Tali shouted.

“Even if we survive the rocket assault, we're basically taking a nosedive at high speeds into a faster-than-light gateway with a sudden stop at the end! That's going to get us killed!”

“Not unless I do this right.” I replied, shaking out my hands and preparing to concentrate.

“Biotics, Variza? Even if you were accomplished, the best case scenario is we don't die nearly as fast.” The dalatrass mentioned.

“Jack, rig the yoke and thrusters for a determined course with the gateway and join us in the back, I'll need your help.” I said tersely, ignoring the dalatrass' worries.

“You got it!” Jack replied eagerly, undoing her crash webbing.

“This is madness! A few broken bones will leave us as sitting ducks!” The turian councilor complained, clearly doing the math in his head as to how much mass, velocity, and kinetic force would have to be directed for this madness to work.

I then turned to the asari councilor and gave her a look, begging for solidarity. She sighed and started concentrating.

“Hold on to something everyone! Gateway is coming in hot!” Shepard yelled!

The last few moments were unreasonable chaos. Jack, the councilor, and I threw up kinetic force barriers, calling upon all of our mastery of the mass effect fields. A forcefield around the shuttle itself, that was Jack's job, to mitigate the force from the impending crash. A second barrier inside the shuttle made by yours truly to prevent the inside from crumpling like a tin can under air pressure, and a third barrier made by the councilor around us specifically to help stop any remaining force that the other two barriers couldn't assuage. Missiles and charged energy blasts rained down on the ship, hammering the barrier Jack threw up, striking the vessel with the force of several consecutive lightning strikes. She managed to hold it together but only just.

Then the shuttle made it through the gateway, and within seconds we were launched across the galaxy at FTL speeds. We still had to maintain the barriers because we had no real ETA about when we would be coming out the other side.

After what felt like an eternity of anticipation and fear, the shuttle flew out the other side of the gateway and hit the metal floor of the citadel like a meteorite. From here, my entire body was a maelstrom of fire and suffering. I let out a torturous scream, joined in a frightful unison by Jack and the councilor. I swear to god at one point I thought my hands were starting to burn right to the bone. Those screams were quickly drowned out the overwhelming force and fury of being trapped in what could easily become a metal tomb at any second.

A second eternity later and everything stopped. The barriers were dropped, and Jack and I fell back into our seats, my body feeling like lead. I ventured to look around.

The shuttle was upright at least but the windows were all shattered. The control console and the pilot seat were shredded and skewered to no end, and the engines had crumpled into a lot of expensive scrap. The shuttle doors were ripped open, and the entire frame was warped to a disturbingly oblong angle.

“Alright, roll call. Whose still alive?” Garrus broke the silence.

A collection of groans was his answer.

“Any broken limbs?” Shepard asked?

“None that I can tell.” Jack responded.

“My suit appears to still be together.” Tali said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Alright... now we just have to stop Saren from pushing the big red button and killing us all.” I derided, trying to stand upright, readying my pistol.


	14. Battle For The Citadel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Alliance battles Sovereign, Shepard and Variza rush to face Saren, setting into motion greater things to come.

It took about five minutes for everyone to get their weapons checked and their gear situated; the Council making due with some basic kinetic shield generators and small pistols they had on hand for personal defense. The plan was for them to stay near the remains of the shuttle, using its debris as makeshift cover and deal with any of Saren's forces that go to investigate the flaming wreckage, all while Shepard lead us to stop the damn turian puppet from causing the end of the world.

It took about ten seconds for the geth to drop in on us. At least two dozen ground troopers, part of Saren's back guard most likely. Each one with plasma rifles all primed and aimed at us from an elevated position, a flight of stairs leading to some sort of hallway.

They had us outnumbered.

They had the high ground.

They had the drop on us.

They lasted about four minutes. From a single bark by Shepard, Jack and I sprang into action. Under serious geth fire, she called upon her biotics, causing a small eruption of kinetic force behind the geth, about four of them didn't get out of the way, their synthetic frames rattling down the stairs like ragdolls. Several quick bursts from Shepard's assault rifle and they were cut to shreds. I then followed up by unleashing my own biotic power... into Jack's own erupting pull.

The thing about biotic power is whenever their kinetic energy and force collides with another biotic force, things can get messy. For example, a small explosion from all the energy dispersing in all directions.

Two more geth were flung from the force of the blast, colliding bodily with four more in front of them, disrupting their rain of death. Once again, Shepard took his shots carefully, concentrated bursts of fire into their bodies as they rolled past us. I steadied my pistol and started taking my shots, my breath slow and my grip firm. One, two, three shots; one, two, three kills. Three of the geth in the back appeared to be readying rocket launchers of some kind, then I saw Tali activate something on her Omni-Tool, aiming at the shock troops. Almost immediately, the rockets began to glow red and spark, the soldiers looking quizzically at their inoperable weapons. She then threw a grenade in their general direction and waited for the fireworks.

As for the rest, they got pushed further up the stairs as we progressed, their hail of plasma energy getting outgunned by our telekinesis, ordinance and gunfire.

“Damn I hate stairs,” I said in exhaustion, casually shooting a prone geth crawling towards his weapon.

“Can anyone here me?” a voice on her commline begged, the voice slightly garbled. “This is Admiral Hackett of the Alliance Navy, we are being overwhelmed by a geth fleet and some unknown alien vessel. It appears to have some sort of super weapon that is decimating our ships! Can anyone give me a status update on the Council?” his tone was professionally level but noticeably stressed.

Shepard immediately chimed in. “Hackett, this is Commander Shepard. That alien ship is a Reaper and it should be your priority target. Focus all your fire at as many critical points as you can, punch through that armor.”

“The Council is with us, Admiral Hackett,” I chimed in. “they're a bit banged up but they're alright.”

“But what about the people on the Citadel? Geth are coming out of nowhere and are attacking civilians. We need boots on the ground.” Hackett stated.

That's when two more voices cut in to the comms.

“This is Urdnot Wrex, I am here with C-SEC pushing back Saren's forces in the Presidium.” the krogan warrior bellowed in, talking over background gunfire and explosions. “These metal bastards aren't getting to any of these people!” The last words coming from his comm was the sound of an unholy roar, a herald of a legendary krogan battle rage.

“Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams reporting in,” her steady tone resolute. “I am with some Alliance soldiers that were on shore leave. We've established a foothold and holding them off at the hangars, doing what we can to shut down their ships from docking.”

Shepard and I exchanged a look. I swear I saw something resembling pride in his eyes through the visor. I couldn't help but smile too.

“Hold your positions you two. Keep everyone as safe as you can. If things get too hot, bug out. Hackett and the fleet will handle Sovereign, and we'll go after Saren.” Shepard responded on all comms, “this is where we hold the line. Not one more innocent life dies today.”

“Aye aye, sir!” Ashley exclaims.

The terrifying part of our descent into the unknown parts of the Citadel was how alien it felt from the public sectors. There were long corridors, all highlighted by pulsing red lights, almost like a heartbeat as we continued deeper into the heart of of the station. What was especially haunting was a lingering sense of decay and death, not dissimilar to a mausoleum. By Vigil's own admission, of the thousands of Protheans that stayed in stasis ready to sabotage the Citadel, only twelve of them managed to get through, knowing full well that it was a one way trip. I half expected to see the dust that was their corpses at one point, but chances are even that is long gone, carried into the unfeeling architecture of the structure.

Then we found it. A large control console with various glowing control interfaces levitating off of it. With Saren towering over it, flipping through the various screens with cold efficiency. Just him. No other geth. Five against one, we had this.

I readied my pistol and aimed for his head.

Then Shepard lowered it with his hand.

I shot him a confused look. He simply stepped forward.

“Saren, step away from that console with your hands up.” He projected, his voice echoing through the halls.

“And why would I do that, Commander? I am so close to freeing us from this cycle.” Saren responded, his hands still flying across the console.

“You are so close to killing the entire galaxy and you don't even know it.” Shepard retorted, slowly approaching him.

I exchanged looks with Garrus and Tali. With a shrug, we very quietly joined Shepard in advance.

“How very typical for a human to think so small. I embraced Sovereign's upgrades to show that we can be useful to the Reapers. Machines thrive on productivity. We have value, they let us live. I'm trying to save as much of the galaxy as I can by doing this.” Saren shot back, albeit with a fraction of a beat of hesitance.

“Did you see all of those pods? The countless achievements those scientists could have brought to the galaxy? How much greater the world would be with their help? They didn't matter to the Reapers. What makes you any different?” I finally spoke up, still training my pistol on the back of his head.

“I can take orders. What's the point of helping a world that's already doomed? There is the next mission to get rid of symptoms of a greater sickness, and nothing more. This is just the endgame, Miss T'Som.”

“Spoken like someone that's forgotten what it means to be a Spectre.” Shepard interjected. We were a few mere steps away from the console. So close, yet so far away.

“We're supposed to be the best of our race. To always find a way to save people, to stop disaster when it comes. This scorch the earth mentality is what the Reapers want you to believe Saren. That the only salvation is through them. You know that's not the truth... you know who the real enemy is.”

Then Saren stopped typing away on the console, his body starting to fidget slightly in odd places like tiny muscle spasms.

“You're right...both of you are...” he whispered as he slowly reached for his pistol. Then he slowly placed the barrel to his own head.

Then he stopped. No trigger was pulled. He just stayed there, shaking as if he was fighting with his own limbs.

Then something caught my eye. His pistol had an ejection slot on it. One used for the insertion and removal of thermal clips. His pistol was upgraded. He got a hold of my blueprints.

Then what followed caused the bottom to fall out of my stomach. Saren spoke again, but it wasn't his voice....

“AND THAT IS WHY THIS PUPPET HAS OUTLIVED ITS USEFULNESS. ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL.”

In barely a fraction of a second, Saren turned around, firing off several shots. One was aimed at Jack, thankfully her biotic control and kinetic shields were just enough to deflect it, at the cost of shattering both like glass. The second went flying at Shepard practically at point blank range. Call it combat adrenaline but he managed to sidestep it, the round barreling through his shields and penetrating his armored right arm.

Then after those two brief instances, his pistol was aimed towards me. It didn't help that I was struck with terror with the face that greeted me. Saren's eyes were glowing a diabolical red, worse still his plated turian features were burning away like a slow motion disintegration, revealing a horrific twisted metal shell of what the Spectre once was, all of it crackling with red energy.

Then he pulled the trigger.

The shot penetrated my armor and exited the other side, leaving hole the size of my thumb in my gut. The cold paralytic shock hit me first as my hands reflexively grasped at the wound. Looking down I saw them covered in purple asari blood, then my sense of balance fell apart. I stumbled back several steps, trying to stay on my feet, despite my head feeling like it was full of cotton balls. Through my hazy vision I saw Sovereign ready another shot towards my head.

Then the pistol exploded in a shower of sparks. Sovereign had about half a second to react to the sabotage before Tali took point, unloading her shotgun into his form.

“Take this you bosch'tet!” she yelled, firing several furious salvos from her weapon. The shells flew at unbelievable speeds, but there were noticeable flickers of red surrounding Sovereign; an overclocked version of a kinetic shield. But Tali kept blasting. Three blasts, four blasts. But the shield stayed up.

Sovereign leaped at her with incredible speed, pouncing on her like a predatory lion and knocking away her shotgun.

The last thing I saw before I lost my balance and clattered to the ground was Sovereign being taken off his feet but some unseen blast. I couldn't tell if it was a grenade, or biotics, but then the full pain of my situation hit me all at once.

I started fumbling through my suit's pockets, looking desperately for my medi-gel, hoping I still had some gobs of it left. I was still breathing properly so it didn't hit my lungs, that was at least some small comfort. Although the blood loss made it feel like driving a car while your hands are asleep, I managed to get my small container of medi-gel out, clapping down with my palms and twisting with my shoulders to get it open, as much as it lead to more waves of white hot pain from my stomach wound.

At least four applications left. It'll have to do.

I carefully removed some of the clear gel and started applying it to my wound, sealing it cleaning. Normally you should remove your armor to make sure it thoroughly covers the area but since there's an ancient machine intelligence controlling the shambling remains of an armed psycho I was well within my rights to ignore procedure. I then got a second gob and fumbled to apply it to the exit wound. The sharp sting of antiseptic and the light dulling of my otherwise unbearable pain meant it was working.

I slowly got to my feet and regained my bearings. Whatever energy that was powering Sovereign's shield seemed to have powered down, mostly because the synthetic nightmare had started leaping from wall to wall, spewing energy and tanking shots like some terrifying mechanical spider-creature. He was moving too fast for Garrus to get a beat with his sniper rifle, so he switched to an assault rifle alongside Shepard. Jack was doing what she could with her telekinesis, trying desperately to warp or rend the chassis to expose some vital components. Tali was slouched in a corner, holding a similar chest wound with her hand, her shotgun slung across her lap, her head lulling slowly. If she doesn't medical attention and a patch to her suit to, she'd be dead within hours.

And if I get up again, I risk my own death.

Unfortunately for me, I'm a stubborn son of a bitch.

I focused as best as I could on Sovereign, him leaping from wall to wall of the large circular room, avoiding shot after shot after kinetic shot, its reaction speed faster than Garrus and Shepard's trigger fingers. Thankfully whatever kind of destructive power his blasts were capable of, the two soldiers were able to stay away from. For now.

I summoned up as much biotic power as I could. Breathing and concentrating, letting my asari body shape and command the dark energy I was calling up. And in one triumphant yell, I threw it towards Sovereign's general direction and with all of my willpower and focus, unleashed the pent up energy in all directions.

The ball of blue energy erupted, and Sovereign leapt from its impact point with mechanical efficiency. Then the energy reflected back into itself and became what I was hoping for, a Singularity. One of the most difficult and taxing powers at a biotic's disposal. A miniature gravity well that can lift objects and even other people off their feet. It's chaotic, dangerous if left unfettered, but best of all slows down and disorients those in the air near it at the time.

Sovereign lands at an odd angle on the wall opposite where Garrus and Shepard already had their weapons aimed. The brief instant of a second of the machine god re-orienting its grip was all they needed to start unleashing hell. The two rifles blasted and spewed, ripping metal and plastic from the shell that was once Saren, followed up by a concentrated concussive blast from Garrus, sending him tumbling to the floor.

That's when Shepard threw a grenade at the body. An attachable grenade that could be remote detonated.

“Game over, asshole!” he spat while pushing the detonator.

A flaming explosion rocked the room, filling my vision with flame. What remained after was a blast mark, a lot of debris, and the upper half of Saren's skull.

“WE WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY. YOUR EXTERMINATION IS INEVITABLE...” Sovereign threatened, his once ominous voice fading into a mere whisper as the red light fades from Saren's eyes.

With what little concentration I had left I expelled my singularity, then stumbled to the back of a wall and slumped down.

“Variza!” Jack yelled running to me.

I tried giving a half hearted wave but I might as well have tried dancing the tango for how much energy I had.

“Bitch you better not die on me!” She swore, trying to help me up, putting my arm over her shoulder.

“Tali... help Tali...” I gasped.

“I got her.” Garrus responded, picking up Tali in his arms.

I was still woozy but I manged to hold on to consciousness to finally hear some good news. Admiral Hackett had called back Shepard to let him know that the Alliance fleet had killed Sovereign. Apparently when his presence overtook Saren, the Reaper became a lot more aggressive, striking down dozens of ships. But once we eliminated him in the Citadel chamber, the Reaper itself became dormant for several crucial seconds, just in time for reinforcements to arrive lead by the Normandy. Several well placed missile salvos and a unified assault later, it was scrap.

After a trip to the medical bay things about as well as you'd expect. Many people didn't want to believe that a single ship was responsible for decimating about seventy-five percent the standing fleet at the Citadel, or that it was a Reaper. It had to have just been a geth superweapon used by Saren to stage a coup against the Council.

As for the truth, the Council knew full well had dangerous this had gotten, but they let the cover story stick. Less panic that way. However, their military and their intelligence divisions began working in secret, to discover the Crucible Project, and to analyze Sovereign's remains. To better understand how to destroy more of his kind, how to use their weapons, and to possibly shield themselves from indoctrination to prevent another incident like Saren.

Commander Shepard meanwhile got full blown accolades. A shining medal ceremony from the Council, attended by the survivors of the battle, along with the Normandy crew. It was small, but it was jubilant. Admiral Hackett himself even wanted to make him a promotion. But he refused, saying his skills were going to be put into something more useful for what was to come.

Jack and I on the other hand? We basically got a pat on the head, confirmation that our records were expunged, a stipend for our work on Shepard's crew, then we were sent on our way.

Well what did you expect, a parade? We were criminals after all.

As for the rest of the crew? Tali returned to her home among her own people in the Quarian Flotilla, Garrus officially quit his job at C-Sec, citing that he got fed up with red tape. He then charted a shuttle to somewhere in the Terminus Systems and has been silent ever since. Urdnot Wrex? Back to Tuchanka, inspired by what Shepard had accomplished (and probably a bit from what I had shown him) to re-unite the clans of his people under one banner.

As for me, that's another story to tell.

After all, I still have about seven years left to go.


	15. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been months since the battle of the Citadel, and Variza is finally settling into her new post-penal soldier life.

I made my way through the threshold to my penthouse apartment, doing everything I could to deflect and shut down the volus banker speaking to me.

“Please Miss T'Som, Your company has made leaps and strides in weapons development and R&D, but if you keep burning through credits with those ventures, you'll go bankrupt,” he pleaded, taking a break only to take a deep inhale through his suit's respiratory supply, “please let me go over the books and see if I can provide a more steady form of long-term revenue and growth in other sectors.”

I honestly wanted to punt the little runt into the nearest taxi and run off. Instead, I simply giggled and turned back towards him, putting a hand to my hip. “Well I never knew you cared that much about my earnings my friend. Maybe I will look you up,” I then leaned down and patted down the long stretches of my black evening dress casually and looked up, “But as you can see it has been a long night and I must take my leave. I'll be sure to let my people get in contact with you. Call my office in the morning and we'll see if I can pencil you in for an appointment.” I then flashed him my best glass smile.

The volus seemed to have bought it, his eyes lighting up and his clawed hands fumbling on each other. “That is good to hear Miss T'Som,” he states, taking another breath, “you will not regret this.”

If he talked anymore after that, I already tuned him out. As I walked past, my human secretary hailed me.

“Miss T'Som, I overheard your conversation, when should I pencil in your appointment with Mr. Zeng?” She interjected, overeager as ever.

“I don't know some time in 2187. If he asks earlier, deflect and tell him I'm overbooked.” I said casually, practically running to the elevator.

Finally, when the doors closed and I was truly alone, I finally unfastened my high heels and pulled them off. I hate putting on appearances, and I hate these damn torture devices even more. I leaned back against the wall of the elevator and took some deep breaths.

Then the elevator music turned on. I pulled my pistol out of my thigh holster and shot the speaker until my clip was empty.

“Erika, why is the speaker still working on this elevator?” I asked through clenched teeth into my Omni-Tool.

“Oh. The repair team came by after last week's incident, apparently someone shot it up due to an alterca-”

“I thought I made it clear to leave the elevator as is.” I interrupted.

There was a pause. “But Miss T'Som, guests might complain about the marks. Inquire about safety regulations.”

“Well you can worry about that once you get elevator music that doesn't suck.” I blurted out.  
“What?”

“Leave it as is!” I yelled then hung up.

Then the doors opened up to my apartment and I was home free. I practically jumped out of my dress, took a refreshing shower, then jumped into yoga pants and a simple black t-shirt. But not before having the windows tinted and the lights turned on. The last thing I needed was the paparazzi calling me an uncouth slob or something.

But screw them, I needed this. I pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and drained in one sitting then got back into my training regiment while listening to the news on my flatscreen. I could have easily searched the Extranet or had a VI just tell me what I missed, but I was feeling a bit home sick and just wanted something resembling normal.

There was the usual guff on the news. How it was the second anniversary since the attack on the Citadel by Saren, but was prevented thanks to the dedication of the Alliance fleet and the heroics of one Commander Shepard. Also his team. I hate hero narratives in journalism. A lot of business scuttlebutt about the rise of my weapons manufacturing company, how I've been burning through cash to make my somehow top of the line weapons even better. Claiming I'm incompetent and should resign, some psuedo-science bullcrap about how my “criminal mind” isn't meant for the long-term thinking and business practices of asari corporate culture, and the usual mollification that I've gone through great strides and hardship to make what I have.

It was more a matter of me throwing out prototypes left and right then hiring those who improved the design thanks to a generous grant from the Council's covert Hephaestus Initiative, but thankfully that stuff is buried in the books. But hey, tomato and tomato salad.

But other than that mention of Shepard, nothing else recent was discussed. That's what worried me. There was more than one way for the Reapers to return to the galaxy to finish what they started, and I still had nightmares of Sovereign's last chilling words through Saren. But not even fluff pieces about Shepard traveling through the galaxy and eliminating the remains of geth forces, taking back lost colonies and stations.

It was about an hour of jogging later that the news started going on about celebrity news, something about an asari pop star running into problems with her polyamorous relationship and a drunk aristocrat showing her ass by pissing off a Justicar. I didn't care, so turned off the monitor.

On reflection I should have showered after my workout. So I showered again. After I redressed I justified it as me washing off my corporate persona, the other for actual bathing.

It was around the time I believed I was finally going to get some sleep that my doorbell rang. I groaned and walked to the door. Erika went home a few hours ago so I couldn't chew her out, but my VI should have turned away anyone who didn't have an appointment. Unless they were someone I knew....

“Hey, blue bitch, you gonna invite me in or am I gonna have to break this door down?” called a familiar voice from behind the door. It was better than coffee.

I threw open the door and there she was. Good old Jack, still looking like the embodiment of that chick you do not mess with unless you have a death wish. Rocking scars and multiple tattoos, but also a slightly more conservative outfit. A black and white striped tube top, dark leather pants, what I have to assume are knuckledusters of some kind on her left hand, and there was even the beginning of a ponytail.

“Well, if it isn't the psychotic biotic herself here to steal my guns and drink my booze.” I said with a chuckle. “Since I'm unarmed I guess I'll have to let you in.”

She strided past me and looked around, Taking in discount corporate opulence.

“How do you deal with this eyesore Variza?” she spat, gesturing to the expensive home theater, the bar, and the fancy modern art pieces.

“By reminding myself that I put it on top of a company full of deterrents. I have asari commandos on security detail two floors below me at all times, and some Loki mechs a floor below ready to deploy at the last second.” I rattled off casually while walking to the bar, pouring a tall glass of strong scotch. “Plus you know, if push comes to shove I can probably throw them out a window with my mind.” I added with a shrug, handing the glass to Jack as she sat down on my couch.

She took several sips, her face scrunched up a bit at the taste, “Goddamn that's some strong shit,” she said with a chuckle, “don't you dare tell me you stopped being a feather weight after Saren, blue. There are a few things in the galaxy that have to stay normal.”

I casually mixed myself some grape juice and seltzer water and sat in a couch opposite her, a tasteful coffee table separating us. “It's more a tactic for prospects and marks to get them to invest in my company. Trick is they think this is sparkling wine.” I respond, tapping my glass with a wink.  
“Trade secret. Don't tell anyone,” I added with a smile.

“Always with the angles, Variza.” Jack laughed.

“What can I say, it's how I lived so far!” I shot back with a snort.

We both shared a hearty laugh after that. Just two ex cons in a penthouse laughing about lying and cheating. The awkward silence afterwards undercut that unintended poignancy.

Jack's smile finally turned back into that steely no nonsense scowl I'm too familiar with. “So what exactly is being done about the Reapers?”

“Really? We're going right into that?” I say with a tone of exasperation.”Hey Variza how's it going? Wow your apartment is gaudy and dripping with excess in a vain attempt to mask the true ulterior motives of a corporation that makes death machines. How are you planning on helping us kill a bunch of genocidal supermachines?” I sigh and sink into the cushions. “Most people ask about the weather or at least how they're doing first. Speaking of which ho-”

“I'm fine.” Jack cut me off. “I've been keeping my nose clean ever since the Alliance started calling me in on certain assignments I'm not allowed to talk about. Very hush hush stuff but it's mostly been shutting down illegal experimental facilities by Cerberus.”

“Hard to believe those guys used to be Alliance Black Ops.” I mutter.

“Yeah, before they thought it would be a fantastic idea to put humanity first and go all mad scientist.”

“Let me guess, something in the vein of cybernetics? Biotic enhancement? Radical behavioral conditioning?” I improvised.

“Sorry, blue. Not on the task force, not allowed to know.” Jack remarked.

“Careful there Jack, that sounded like responsibility for a second there.” I playfully scolded, flashing a toothy grin.

“You still haven't answered my question though Variza. What are you doing to stop the Reapers?”

For a while the only thing I could hear was the clinking of the ice in my purple drink.

“Well my company is working with the Alliance to reverse engineer the armor and weaponry taken from Sovereign's remains. Plus a lot of arms manufacturing for the STG, any asari mercenary unit that bothers to ask unless they work for the criminal underground running out of Omega, I have standards after all Jack, the Turian Navy and of course the Spectres. I've also been buying shares in the company that has been making better armor in the field to counteract the punch of my weapons just to be sure I can cover my bases and keep prime product in mind when it comes to referrals.” I paused to take a swallow of fizzy grape.

“Also, a lot of corporate double talk and fancy parties. Lot of fake smiles, ego stroking, and walking around in a backless dress and fashionable heels.” One of my hands goes to my left foot and rubs at its soreness. “Honestly I'd rather be shot at by geth.” I added after a while.

“Then why aren't you, Variza?” Jack shot back with cold ruthlessness. “You got battle scars just as much as anybody else on the Normandy. You rubbed shoulders with us and shed blood across the galaxy to stop that fucker. Why aren't you arming up and helping us?”

I finished my drink and slowly got up. “You haven't heard from him, have you? Shepard? That's why you're coming to me.” I asked, chasing a hunch.

She took another sip, put the glass on the table, then got up to meet my gaze. “Nothing. For two years. I mean at least that other girl is out doing Prothean excavations again on Ilos and Mars. Looking for that Crucible Project of yours. Doctor whoever-”

“T'Soni.”

“Whatever. Wrex is at least trying to get his people to stop killing each other so they can go kill the Reapers. Tali is helping her people push the geth back. But Shepard? One of the most capable badasses, someone I thought I could trust just vanishes. And you? You're up here drinking sparkling grape juice, sweet talking guys in suits to swindle them out of cash rather than blowing shit up!?” The last few words came out like a roar, her arms shaking with biotic power. “Where the hell was that hard-boiled blue bitch that fought her way out of Purgatory Station so long ago?”

“I'm fighting smart Jack!” I barked back, Getting right in her face, my anger outweighing my fear at what she could do to me. Our noses micrometers apart.

“You saw what I was capable of at the Citadel. That was my peak! I got shot and almost paralyzed while everybody else fell back to help me. I am not meant to be in the field!” I raised my fist and channeled my biotic strength through it as well, my forearm glowing a light blue with latent dark energy.

“Purgatory Station was a fluke with a bunch of chaotic nobodies. Those missions with Shepard was me staying away from combat, making sure innocent people weren't getting hurt. The Reapers have been doing this shit for millenia! You want people on the front line facing that? You need the most deadly, the most ruthless, and the most capable. And since I'm none of those things I'm giving them better boomsticks to help them live a little longer! This is the best I can do!” I spat those last words at her, daring her to call my bluff.

She slowly dissipated her power. She then tried to punch me. I blocked it. She followed up with a headbutt. I saw stars as I clattered into my couch, my head singing a symphony of pain.

“Well if you need some actual people to use those boomsticks, you can call me at Grissom Academy. Enjoy your fancy parties, blue.” She seethed with venom, spitting on my polished wood floors before leaving the room.

I didn't sleep well that night. Jack's visit was some pretty sour grapes but her words didn't exactly leave me either. What the hell can I do other than be a weapons mogul? No matter what justifications I gave myself, the number of people I stepped on and double crossed to get to this point could have hired multiple assassins to get rid of me months ago, the danger of being underequipped for an enemy of this size, it still stung me in my stubborn pride.

I wasn't there helping them fight. Plain and simple. And no matter what I told myself, it was out of fear.

The following day was another in a long stretch of my routine. Get up, work out, catch the latest stock information, get dressed, go through the various wings to check on production, board meeting, a quick stop by the firing range to keep my skills sharp and to take some photo ops for marketing, fancy party with a lot of shoulder rubbing or a scheduled meeting with another executive, then stumbling back to my place to wash off the shame and repeat.

But then something unusual happened during my lunch break. I was at my desk enjoying my lunch, I didn't know the actual name of it but it reminded me a lot of korean barbecue, then I got hailed by Erika.

“Miss T'Som, you have a visitor, someone from the Spectres here to talk about a requisition.”

I rolled my eyes and finished my mouthful of goodness and responded.

“If the Spectres want specialized weapons we have a system for that. So if this is a professional query of an investigation it can wait until after lunch.” I responded.

Then my doors opened and Commander Shepard walked in, bold as brass.

“Hello Variza” he said with a smile.


	16. Getting Pulled Back In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza is visited by Shepard, who asks her to undertake a very important mission

Of all the ways Commander Shepard could have returned in my life it just had to be with me behind a desk of a major office in an executive dress, mouth full of spicy veggies and local protein looking like a deer in headlights. I honestly didn't know whether or not to finish my mouthful or let it flop out with indignity.

Unfortunately my brain didn't get the memo to my mouth fast enough.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” I blurted out, sending out masticated chunks of lunch.

Shepard flashed a smile and sat down at my desk, in full armor nonetheless, and responded, “I'm here to discuss a new major development that you want to be a part of.”

I quickly wiped my mouth with a napkin and hailed Erika to hold my calls and appointments, mentioning I was being questioned by a Spectre. I then flashed my most practiced toothy smile and started fiddling with my Omni-Tool under the desk.

“Commander Shepard, hero of the battle of the Citadel, what ever could bring you all the way to Thessia just to see me? As you can see I'm a legitimate businesswoman now, my criminal past behind me-”

Then the cameras and audio recording equipment were de-activated.

“- and you have some nerve showing up after two years off the grid.” I snarled, letting my anger show.

“I thought you were dead! I thought you were captured! The Reapers are more than just geth and indoctrinated sleeper agents you know!” I blurted out.

“Glad to see the white collar life hasn't changed you that much, Variza,” Shepard commented, “that's exactly why I came to seek you out. I am looking for people to help me on a top-secret mission.”

And just like that, my corporate induced malaise evaporated, and with it my righteous indignation. That old rush of traveling the galaxy again, fighting for a new tomorrow overwhelmed me. The excitement. The rush. The terror. The danger. The fact that I nearly died on at least four separate occasions. The haunting visage of Saren's twisted metal maw as he put me on death's door with a single shot.

“Get somebody else.” I said after a few dozen heartbeats. “I'm no warrior, and I get a feeling I already know what the mission is so I can tell I'm not suited for it.”

“Variza, if what you told me so long ago is true, then I know you want to find some way to help the hundreds of human colonists that have gone missing by the Collectors.” Shepard remarked. “You still have some human pride right.”

He did have me there. The asari are some of the most empathic and caring people in the galaxy. But at the same time they take forever to do anything and think about long-term way too much. It's like being a chihuahua in a world of sloths. And the sloths run cable news and run the stock market.

“Yeah, but I also know my limitations.” I finally confessed. “That fight with Saren was a wake-up call. You, Garrus, Wrex, Tali. You guys are amazing, some of the biggest badasses around. I don't want to hamstring that kind of efficiency when we have trillions of lives at stake.”

“Which is why you won't be on the front lines.”

“Excuse me, what?”

Shepard got up from his chair and moved towards my window, taking in my view of the asari planet.

“First, let's evaluate the situation, including the details so we're on the same page.”

I shrugged while swiveling my chair to address him. “Of course. The devil's in the details as they say.”

“First, as of a few months ago, various human colonies have gone missing. Instances of communications going out, several hours of silence, then when a team goes in to investigate, no one is left. Like they just vanished.

“Then while I was investigating a report of a similar instance happening on the colony of Freedom's Progress, I bumped into a squad of quarians, a search party looking for a friend of theirs who was on the colony helping them with repairs of some kind. We found him locked down in a bunker with a lot of improvised traps and counter-measures. But it also gave us crucial information and confirmation of the threat to the Alliance and what had happened to the colonists”

“The Collectors.” I responded. Shepard simply pointed at me in confirmation.

“From there, we were able to determine that their ships have been going in and out of the Omega-4 relay, a Mass Relay in the network that no one dares to use. Anyone who does is never heard from again.”

“And in order to figure out what they're doing with the colonists you are assembling a crack team of the best scientists, engineers, soldiers, assassins, and pilots to go through the relay, see what the Collector's are doing and stop them.” I rushed out. “Yes, I am aware of how the script goes.”

Shepard then turned to me, his face like stone, “Then you should know that things have changed.”

I blinked several times and took some sips from my drink, hoping to drown my impatience.

“Please, enlighten me then. I have been out of the loop after all.” I said after several pensive swallows.

“What I didn't explain was that during my time on Freedom's Progress was there was a third party there, hostile to both my fireteam and the quarians. Cerberus.”

“That's a bit of a surprise. They've mostly been in the business of unethical experimentation and human supremacy nonsense.”

“Well they got some help. Apparently some of the technology obtained from Sovereign's remains got into Cerberus' hands. Whoever that fireteam was, they were good. Really good. Apparently they were after information about the Collectors as well, and were willing to put us down to get to it.”

“At least you put them down right?”I asked hopefully.

“No. We managed to pin them down but they got away with some well placed flashbangs. Whoever they are, they're still out there. Bolstered by reverse-engineered Reaper tech.”

I took several moments to mull this over.

“So you're still recruiting for your big suicide mission, but due to the interference of Cerberus, you can't be in two places at once. Which means you need my help for the recruitment procedure.”

“To go to places in the galaxy I can't, to convince the kind of people that won't listen to me.” Shepard added, a hint of relief in his tone.

“Why? The Council too worried about legal ramifications or war breaking out?” I sarcastically remarked.

“Actually, no. The Council is behind this mission completely. The problem is my new organization doesn't have enough agents to undertake such a mission. Which is why I'm recruiting your services.”

A new organization? I stared at him utterly puzzled. His expression turned to one of amusement.

“It's quite fitting considering Cerberus started as the Alliance's black ops organization before splintering off that we created a new version of it to fight them, don't you think?”

I couldn't help but laugh at the irony.

“Alright fine, Shepard. I'll help you recruit some crazy people for your big suicide mission. Forward the information to my account and I'll keep in touch with who I find and send them your way.”

Shepard gave a genuine smile after that. I rose to shake his hand and he made his way towards the exit.

“Just one more thing before you go.” I called out. He stopped at the threshold.

“With all the money the council is giving away with the Hephaestus Initiative to bring up arms development and you having their full support, why are you still low on supplies and recruits?”

Shepard turned to me and simply said, “Because they're too busy working on the Crucible project. It wasn't on Ilos, it was on Mars. You can thank Liara for the discovery.”

Then he left.

I slumped in my chair and finished my lunch. The closest thing to comfort I'm going to have for a long time.

The rest of my day went by in a haze. By the time I fully absorbed what I was about to undertake I was already at my elevator going back up to my penthouse. As per my ritual, I undid my high heels and slumped into the wall, just glad it was over.

Then the doors opened and instead of my usual welcoming abode of solitude, there was another asari in my bed. Spread out in luscious erotic glory like a pin-up girl in a dirty magazine. Her figure alluring in every way. The lights didn't full illuminate her face, but her voice came out like sweet honey.

“Hello stranger” she crooned, taking a moment to stretch her arms out, if only to arch her back and thrust out her chest.

I carefully kept my hand near my thigh holster and approached slowly.

“Hello yourself.” I responded back, looking around my apartment for signs of a struggle. Blast marks, cuts, broken glass. My eyes turned up with nothing. “I don't recall giving my number to anyone at a bar, miss. So forgive me if I'm not exactly running up to greet you.”

“Oh, I think this might clear that up.” she responded, her voice full of sultry temptation. She tapped my personal holo display on the bedside table and a recorded message came up.

“Hey boss, it's Erika. Listen, we here at the company really do appreciate what you do for us. Compared to other companies you've been generous with our health care packages and even took several pay cuts rather than downsizing. So we kind of chipped in and got you a little companion for the night. It wasn't exactly cheap, but you're worth it. Besides you clearly need a night to yourself. Hope you have fun Miss T'Som.”

The mysterious figure then sat up and started casually stripping. It looked like a tight leather outfit of some kind. It has been forever since I've been with someone....

I quickly scanned her with my Omni-Tool searching for weapons on her person. She came up clean.

“Are you done examining me Miss T'Som? I mean... you do have me for the entire night.” she added that last part with a kiss.

Sometimes I hate how my base needs destroy my logic. But screw it, it was my last night before another mission for Shepard and I was going to make the most of it.

It was within two minutes that I was under the sheets with her. Kissing and biting and cooing the entire time. But something wasn't right. Some harsh feeling in the pit of my stomach. Like being in a shark tank.

I pulled myself away from one of her forceful french kisses, her biting my lower lip with such force.

“Wait,” I gasped, “I'm a bit old-fashioned I mean...can I at least get your name?”

She gave me a wolfish smile as she threw me to the bed, holding my arms down with her wait and straddling me.

She then whispered in my ear, “Morinth.”

The bottom fell out of my stomach and my heart stopped.

The look she gave me was pure sadistic glee.

“The Shadow Broker says hello,” she moaned, her eyes turning to midnight black, “and good-bye.”

And then my body erupted into my flame and my brain was filled with acid.


	17. Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza comes face to face with an Ardat Yakshi, and must push her will to the absolute limit to survive.

Despite how much this galaxy has advanced, every race has their own living nightmares, their own boogeymen. For the krogan, they have the towering monstrosities of their home world: the Thresher Maws. Humanity has the overzealous Earth First nutters of Terra Firma and Cerberus. The quarians; the geth. As for the asari, I was staring into the cold dead eyes of one of them as she began to slowly incinerate my nervous system.

An Ardat-Yakshi.

I could easily go into detail about how much pain I was in. After all, that's what a nervous system does, the whiny bastard. But the closest thing is I can muster is that it felt like I was drowning in liquid fire, gasping desperately for air that wouldn't come while the face of an azure executioner laughed at my pain like a sick sadist.

Then the pain stopped. It wasn't by some miracle of an outside force, I'm too unlucky for that. Morinth simply stopped.

I sharply gasped, filling my lungs with air and began to struggle, kicking legs and struggling against her vice-like grip. There was nothing rote or planned about it, my limbs were going on auto-pilot after the sensory assault they were under. Unfortunately, I wasn't her first victim, she had me pinned and I knew it. But everything in my being was screaming run. Like a gazelle under a lioness it was all over but the killing blow.

Morinth chuckled as she kept me pinned and leaned down, her breath hot in my ear.

“Don't worry my sweet thing, the Shadow Broker insisted on torturing you for information. After that, he said I can do with you what I please,” she trails a finger across my face, “so be a good girl and maybe I'll end your life quickly.”

I started getting proper control over my arms and legs again. I tried to summon my biotic power but it was a mere flicker of what should be there. I tried several times, blocking out Morinth's questions and focusing entirely on channeling my telekinetic power.

What truly makes an Ardat-Yakshi the stuff of asari legend is just how antithetical they are to the race's romanticized ideals. While the rest of the blue women preach a philosophy of universal love and understanding, embodying the ideals of a benevolent matriach, the exact opposite can be said for what would be called in their ancient language, “The Demon of the Night Winds.” Violent, harsh, sadistic, and their romantic encounters are as acyclical as a praying mantis due to their melding causing their mates to internally bleed to death. What makes that last part worse is that it is coupled with an increased libido, the fact that every mating increases their strength, and that they are borne sterile.

And I got a chance to feel that power upfront when she slammed down on my body with the force of a boulder.

The force knocked the air out of my lungs and I'm pretty sure one of my ribs got broken. But as I gasped for more breath, my torturer immediately grabbed me by the throat, pinning my down my free hand with a simple thought and effort of biotic power.

“Oh I'm sorry, was I not keeping your attention?” She said in mock concern, her lips in a pout. “Let's see what happens if I'm a bit more direct. Where did you come from and who do you work for?” She then started pressing on my windpipe.

“Come on dear, blink twice if you're gonna talk.” She mocked.

Damn my self-preservation instinct. I blinked twice as distinctly as I could. She loosened her grip.

“You got ten seconds.” she responded, her tone cold as ice.

“My name is Variza T'Som, that's the name I chose for myself when I arrived at the Citadel back in 2183. I may look like an asari but I'm not from this world,” I kept flexing my hands, looking for some biotic power I could still draw from, anything to give me an edge. Just had to keep talking, buy myself some extra time. “I'm actually an interdimensional being who originally started life on Earth in the early twenty-first century as a human male,”

Morinth rolled her eyes. “Alright, guess we're doing this the hard way then.” Then her eyes turned back into infinite pools of inky darkness and my body became completely paralyzed.

“Listen to me now, Variza, you will tell me your secrets to your company for my employer within the next thirty seconds, or you will open your window and jump out of it.” Her voice warped and menacing.

I felt my own body saying, “I will,” in a dreamlike haze, my own volition obliterated under her command.

“Where did you get the design for your weapon?”

“From a woman known as Jump, she provided me weapons from the future because I asked for them” I replied in total obedience. Even while in the backseat of my own mind I was messing with her. I would be laughing if I could.

I heard Morinth growl under her teeth despite maintaining eye contact with her deathlike glare.

“And who hired you to send out those designs to lure out the Shadow Broker's agents?”

“It was me. I was trying to find someone in the galaxy who could improve the weapon's design, hire them to make more, to help stop the coming of the Reapers.” I droned on.

“Yet you called the law in. Why? Are you trying to usher in on his turf.”

“I can't stand criminals and lowlife scum, it was an afterthought.” I replied truthfully. I felt something drip on my neck. Something warm and wet. I couldn't look down but I suspected it was from a nosebleed.

“Well then, I guess what I have here is someone a little crazy for their own good. You might be telling the truth, but they aren't facts.” Morinth hissed. But instead of yelling, she simply got up after quietly telling me to stay still, fished my pistol out of my discarded thigh holster, and threw out a hand towards my window, shattering it to pieces with a thought and letting the howl of Thessia's night life scream into my home.

“So Variza, looks like this will be the end of our little night together,” She said, slowly putting on her tight form-fitting leather outfit. “Honestly you might just be the worse lay I've ever had, but I'll get over it, so this is where you get out. I'll help myself to your stuff and get comfortable, no need to worry about me.” She ended that last sentence with a kiss on my cheek.

“Now get up, walk out that window and do a flip.” she spat venomously.

My body got up and took several steps towards the threshold. But thank god for my sense of self-preservation. I felt my legs gain control again and I told them to slam on the brakes. My hands balled up into defiant fists of rage, and I could feel my teeth grind against each other. Whatever Morinth was doing to me, I was fighting back.

It was after several eternal seconds that I turned to her and yelled, “No! And go fuck yourself!”

… straight into the barrel of my own pistol.

“Wrong answer sweetie,” she said casually and pulled the trigger.

The dead air was filled with several empty clicks.

Morinth's gaze turned to my pistol for a single crucial second. I took my opportunity and ran at her in a bull charge. I rammed into her chest at a dead sprint, hitting her solar plexus head-on, and followed up the assault with a vicious uppercut to her chin.

“Suri, security alert code red!” I yelled at my VI. A heartbeat later, the entire building was on lockdown, flashing red lights, reinforced blast doors and all.

Morinth casually discarded my pistol and drew her own from her suit and started firing. I stayed low and bolted, throwing in serpentine twists and turns and using everything I could for cover. My bed was shot to ribbons, my tables reduced to splinters, my radio turned into scrap metal, and my modern art pieces reduced to dust. And my damn biotics were still scrambled!

Then the elevator doors opened and the cavalry arrived: A squad of my Mk II LOKI mechs. They're still easily disposable and inexpensive, but some smart cookies at R&D managed to implement some basic shield generators into their design. Each one of them were equipped with some test versions of my new Inquisitor hand cannons, a modification of the Paladin model Jump gave me.

They began opening fire on Morinth. With a pivot, she turned to meet them and with a single raised hand summoned a biotic barrier to block the assault. It was like something from a nightmare. Those pistols can shred through geth and some of the best shield generators on the market, and there she was blocking three assaults like they were water pistols.

I desperately scanned the room, looking for my pistol, the dark red alarm lights not exactly making it stand out. There it was, near the remains of my flatscreen television monitor. I quickly scrambled to it as quietly as I could muster between the sharp pangs of anguish in my chest and the chaos of Morinth tearing apart my security detail with her mind and laughing like a psychopath. I quickly fumbled with several small buttons on the side until I finally saw my weapon emit a blue holo display. I stood up and entered a firing stance.

By the time she was in my sights, Morinth had turned to re-face me. My mechs were completely destroyed and the elevator was torn to pieces. No way any of us was getting out of here, and my commandos were officially cut off from me. I squeezed off several rounds. Morinth put up her hand and called up another barrier. As expected , the rounds impacted on her shield, then the rounds continued through at roughly the same ballistic force as a riot gun, striking her in the stomach and collarbone. She stumbled back from the force, her barrier collapsing to nothing.

“Here's a trade secret for you, Morinth. DNA guard on the pistol, phasic rounds to deal with biotic assassins.” I aimed for her head. “Take that with you to hell, asshole.”

She roared in response and flung out a tidal wave of biotic force, forcing me off my feet as gravity ceased to work in my area. I held on to my pistol like it was a goddamned life preserver and went for one last clear shot.

She screamed like a bat out of hell and threw me towards the splintered and spiked remains of my bed. I took my shot.

The last thing I saw before my vision became nothing but stars was her head snapping back then hanging limp.

I collapsed, my vision a blurry haze of red and white. Some of my ribs were definitely broken, and my body was covered in a thousand wooden pins and needles.

“Suri,” I managed to choke out. “Contact the Thessia authorities,” I sucked in another breath and swore a few times. “And inform Samara of the Justicars that she should be on the scene. On her family honor.”

“Messages sent Miss T'Som. It is currently late, you really should try to get some rest.” The VI responded.

I turned to look at the mangled monstrosity that was once where I rested my head. Yeah, like that'll happen tonight.

It was some time later before my commando unit made their way up to me. The elevator may have been out but they made due with some biotic levitation, grapnel devices, and some well placed kinetic charges to remove the crushed tin can that was the elevator. The authorities came in and took Morinth's body away, helped me get dressed and asked for my testimony. I was as honest as I had to be. I didn't care how much I was shaking, I was just glad to be alive.

It wasn't until I was put up at a hotel nearby that I got a visitor. I slowly limped to the door, pistol in hand, other hand covering the wrappings around my stomach.

“Who is it?” I asked.

She simply opened the door and walked through. Samara, was a tall asari Matriarch, and her age and confidence as a warrior was made abundantly clear in her gait. The kind of conditioned body language you get from someone who has fought for their life thousands of times over. She was in her ruby red suit and she had her own pistol clipped to her hip. An Inquisitor, like mine.

“Miss T'Som. I trust you are recovering well?” She said with a tone of practiced yet detached concern.

“Yes I am, at least as well as I could be after facing an Ardat-Yakshi.” I responded.

She smiled at that. But it quickly vanished.

“You find it hard to be around me, don't you?” I inquired.

“The Codes of Subsumation make it perfectly clear what my duties are. One is to punish the guilty, you are a criminal with a long list of horrific deeds under your belt. But another is to uphold the status quo of the galaxy. You served a sentence by the Council, and have been absolved, redeemed by them.”

“Such is the life you chose, Samara. One of pure right and wrong. I understand.” I empathized. I offered her a seat and continued. “That is exactly why I am glad you heard my call because I wanted to offer you two things. First, the knowledge that your daughter Morinth will no longer haunt the galaxy and that your secret is safe with me.”

Samara's flashed with a pang of sadness but then recomposed herself.

“And the second is a mission from the hero of the Citadel himself, Commander Shepard. Your Justicar code demands that you do everything within your power to protect the innocent. How do you feel about helping a bunch of heroes save the galaxy?”

“Please... tell me more.” She asked, intrigued.

Looks like my mission just started earlier than I expected.


	18. Omega's Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza brings an old friend with her to find recruits for Shepard's Suicide Mission

I absently held my aching stomach while swallowing some painkillers. It's been a week since Morinth had tried to kill me, but there are certain things you just don't forget. The doctors were able to patch up my broken ribs and various contusions. There was a gifted neurologist that was able to assess and diminish the brain damage Morinth did to me with her melding, which explained how erratic my biotics were that night. Even Dr. Dren was on call for some therapy sessions, having my first night of intimacy in years turning into an attempt on my life leaves its mental scars after all. But despite their protests for months of bed rest and mental recuperation I had a job to do. I can rest when Shepard has his team.

I took some deep breaths and counted to ten as my shuttle made its landing on Omega station. I double checked my equipment and re-adjusted some parts of my new suit of armor that was tugging here and there. It was a custom order job from some of the people I knew in Thessia, fantastic shield generators able to stop anything short of short range explosives – within reason of course, and the limbs had some fantastic eezo reserves in them to help amplify my biotics in dangerous situations. That last one is a bit of a crutch, but I'm going to need it while I work out the attack on my office.

I stepped out of the shuttle and put on my best tough girl attitude. I was standing in one of the most dangerous nests of criminal activity in the galaxy, I had to look my best. The pilot got out shortly after and joined me.

“What the hell is that?” Garrus asked quizzically, looking at my scowl.

“Tough guy look. Have to give off the look of a predator or else we'll get eaten alive.”  
“You look like you're constipated.”  
I shot him a dirty look. “You know you could have turned down my offer to stick around right? You did go into the private sector for a reason after all.”

Garrus shrugged. “True, but usually whenever I hear something involving Shepard or you, I can expect danger and some excitement. Despite what the movies tell you, being your own boss as a private merc is incredibly boring.”

We made our way towards the club known as Afterlife, casually walking through the line of batarians, vorcha, and humans, their protests might as well have been birds chirping.

“Why not go vigilante? Go after the crooks themselves on your own terms?” I mused. “Red tape only gets you tied up, am I right?”

“Not a whole lot of need for loose cannons anymore since law enforcement conveniently got more firepower.” Garrus' mandibles twitched in amusement. “You'd almost think someone was just giving them away to the local police and the Alliance.” he added after a while with a sideways glance at me.

I smiled. “Well, military veteran discounts, they buy in bulk, helps keeps the lights on.” We finally got up to the krogan bouncer. “Still, glad to hear you're rolling with the punches as more of a private eye and bodyguard.”

The krogan stepped in front of me, eight feet of muscle, armor, and anger. I finally turned to address him.

“Miss, I need to ask for you and your friend to get to the back of the line right now. Or else I'll have to throw you there myself.” He got right in my face, his breath hot and rancid. “And I can throw really far.”

I activated the right gauntlet in my armor and fed my biotic power through it, building it up to symphony of strength in my fist.

“That's nice.” I quipped before slamming him in the face with the force of a wrecking ball.

He was on the ground, his face bleeding orange ichor and swearing up a storm. He got back to his feet and pulled out a shotgun.

“Variza T'Som of T'Som Manufacturing to see Aria T'Loak. I sent her a message ahead of time. And if I've been told right, she doesn't like waiting. So how about you do me a favor and use some of that krogan regeneration to walk that off and let your boss know me and my friend are coming in.” I spat in my iciest tone.

The krogan turned to look at me and Garrus, for a second or two I thought he was just going to lunge at us in a blood rage. But he slowly lowered his shotgun, turned away from us and muttered something into a headset mic.

“Sorry for the inconvenience, Miss T'Som. You're both free to go in.”

Afterlife was another dark den of flashing neon, bustling patrons and erotic asari dancers. There were two floors to the circular club, with the walls all displaying harsh and bright images of fire and flame, all to help silhouette the profiles of the dancers as they gyrated and showed off. It was also a clever distraction tactic, keeping your eyes away from the security cameras, personnel all in black suits packing heat, and that unsettling suspicion that you were two steps and a few poorly chosen words away from getting knocked out cold and robbed for all you had.

Garrus and I made our way towards the staircase guarded by two mean looking batarians. They let us pass as we approached. At the top, we bumped into two more batarians, asking for us to hand over our weapons. My eyes darted behind me, half-imagining our greeters were already training concealed weapons on us in case we didn't comply. I handed over my pistol, Garrus handed them his assault rifle in solidarity.

We then stepped into the inner sanctum of Omega's queen. Aria T'loak was an asari, purple in tone, and the kind of matriarch that lived hard and never stopped. She offered us seats and we accepted. It didn't help that we were unarmed and she had at least six trained mercs with weapons on us.

“So, the hardened criminal who helped save the galaxy from a madman and made a tower for herself by utterly ruining my gun trade and selling her own needs my help.” She had a toothy grin that would make sharks proud. “Excuse me a moment, I want to savor this.”

“As much as I enjoy amusing your love of irony, Aria, I'm afraid I am on a tight schedule.” I remarked.

“Choose your next words carefully little girl or your corpse will be out the airlock before you know it.” Aria barked, her smile shifting to a harsh register. The armed thugs shifted around, turning their attention to me.

I gulped. Suddenly I couldn't find words.

Then Garrus came to my rescue. “What I think she means Aria is we have great respect for how you have unified Omega from the unruly hive of unprofessional louts it was before. Which is why you were our first choice in helping us to find certain potential candidates for a special project. A time-sensitive project you understand.” He tried to smile. At least I thought he did.

Aria laughed. “I've heard of how brazen you are among our kind Variza but Goddess I had to see it for myself. No wonder there was already an assassin after you!” Her batarian guard laughed in kind.  
“But hey, I understand a thing or two about getting things fast. Commodities change hands so fast around here, both legit and otherwise. So please...tell me who you're looking for and we can negotiate a price.”

Garrus and I traded looks.

“Well go on, you have the list, not me.” he said sotto vocce.

I rolled my eyes and fished out my datapad and consulted it. There are three individuals of note that intel says frequents this place. The first is Zaeed Masani, a mercenary that was the original head of the Blue Suns before he was betrayed.”

“Would you care to tell me his tailor measurements while you're at it?” Aria remarked cutting me off. “I'm aware of Mr. Masani, and I'm also aware of how brutal and dangerous he is as a merc. The last job he had was a simple assassination mission. He blew up an eezo processing rig to make it happen simply because some people there had ties to his old gang. He's a mad dog with a grudge.”

“Well that kind of mark against his character isn't exactly a fault. Do you know how to contact him?”

“Hardly. Last I heard he was in the Attican Traverse chasing a breadcrumb trail about his old partners. Why exactly do you need his help anyway?” Aria cocked an eyebrow.

“Simple transportation job for a discrete assignment via my employer.” I said quickly.

“Ah,” Aria relaxed in her expensive-looking chair, “you're just a middleman then?”

“Compartmentalization. It's a bitch.” I said with a coy smile.

“Indeed. Who else are you looking for?”

I scrolled through my datapad and found the next name.

“Alright, what about Kasumi Goto?” I asked.

“The infamous thief. I am aware of her.”

“Then you know that despite her uncanny ability to hide from surveillance cameras and escape artistry, many of the pieces she fences from her heists seem to get traced back here to your personal corner of the galaxy. Maybe you can give me some contacts, see if I can track her down?”

“I'm no rat for the Alliance, Variza, I'm not helping you bring her in.” Aria snapped. Her posture turning confrontational again, albeit in a more rote manner. The kind of posture you see with a career criminal getting grilled by the cops. Well at least she basically confirmed she knows where she is.

“This is not a sting operation, Aria. Trust me. In fact, if you can schedule a meeting with Miss Goto I will gladly do it here in Afterlife, with any and all conditions gladly met.” I reply quickly.

Aria smiled her shark smile again. “Any of my conditions?”

I swallowed my pride, dreading what that would entail. “Yes, anything. To prove my amiability towards Miss Goto for my personal agenda I am willing to meet her with various security restrictions you wish to impose.”

She seemed a bit defeated by my rewording but shrugged nonetheless. It was hard to tell if she was impressed or robbed of amusement.

“I'll see if I can pull some strings within the next few days. Will three suffice?”

“That's plenty.” I lied. Omega is a place you visit if you're crazy enough; you stay if you're suicidal.

“And the last individual of interest?” Aria asked. “I like to know what exactly the items are before we discuss the price after all.”

“Dr. Mordin Solus.” I responded after a few crucial seconds on my datapad.

“The salarian engineer with a brain that operates at FTL speed and a mouth that goes twice as fast?”

“Yes. The reports state that there has been an outbreak of some unknown plague on the station and Dr. Solus is contributing to the relief effort. I want access to the quarantine zone so I can have an audience with him.”

Aria slowly exhaled. “That is a pretty tall order Variza.”

“After he successfully does what he can to help the residents of Omega of course.”

“Well I certainly hope so. I'm the one who brought him here.” she remarked.

“Well, you know what I'm buying from you, Aria, name your price.” I laced my fingers together and rested my chin on the bridge, waiting for her answer.

“Hmm,” Aria looked around with an impish glimmer in her eye, checking her fingers for dirt. It was unbearably quiet, and something tells me she knew it was pissing me off.

“Let's see... how about a shipment of your weapons?”  
My face sank, and I swear I saw Garrus catch himself from screaming an obscenity.

“DNA locked to me and my men, and untraceable by the law. Not just the stuff you sell to the locals either. The top of the line experimental stuff you keep for yourself. You do that and I'll get you your precious time with Mordin and Kasumi, and above all, my protection for your continued stay here on my station.”

I shot out of my chair with indignity.

“My weapons are more than just pistols and rifles, Aria!” I protested. Not even half a dozen batarians with guns aimed at my head was going to stop this anger from boiling over. “There are things in there capable of committing war crimes. The sort of stuff that the Alliance would have me arrested for if they even knew I was working on. I'm not putting that kind of firepower in the hands of a bunch of criminals running around Terminus space!”

Aria... got up to meet me, her movements graceful and precise. She got right in my face.

“Aww I'm sorry, is this your first time negotiating with someone who isn't in a backless dress surrounded by drunk sycophants? Those are my terms, so you can either write me down for a crate of your finest and shake my hand, yell at me some more and give my boys the excuse to paint my office violet, or walk out of my club with nothing.”

I clenched my fists and looked down. Aria had at least an extra foot on me in height and at least seven centuries of mileage compared to me, I couldn't help but feel emasculated at what she was doing to me.

“You'll get my specialty firearms for yourself and two others and a shipment of standard product. But only small arms.” I responded through clenched teeth. “You want something bigger, shop somewhere else.”

Aria put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. “Sorry, gonna need more than that.”

“What about your advanced LOKI mechs, Variza?” Garrus interrupted.

I shot him a look that could make paint peel off a wall.

“Garrus, shut up!”

“They're much more effective at crowd control than the standard models you can get from other manufacturers, and they have more articulation points to them. Easier to program for more advanced tactics.” Garrus continued, undaunted by my warnings.

“Oh, so you are more than just a pretty face full of piss and vinegar!” Aria chuckled. “Too bad somebody here forgot to muffle their varren dog. That will do just fine. A dozen of your personal LOKI mechs I think will just about make this an even trade.” she took her hand off my shoulder and sauntered back to her chair looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Thank you for your understanding, Aria.” Garrus spoke up, taking advantage of my boiling anger making me slow to respond. “We shall make our arrangements and shall send the product to your contacts as per your instructions. But it will take a few days.”

“Of course. Which is why, since I'm a generous and understanding asari, I will give you half of what I owe you now, the other half when you uphold your end of the bargain.” Aria motioned to a batarian nearby, he quickly tapped away on his omni-tool. My omni-tool activated, showing a layout of the station and a glowing destination marker deeper into the depths.

“Mordin Solus is there. Tell the guard that red dust is fashionable, they'll know what it means.”

Garrus turned to look at me, then back at Aria.

“Well I think that means we're done here.” He finally said, breaking tense silence.

“For now.” she added with a terse smile.

Garrus made our excuses and we all but ran out of Afterlife. I finally exhaled and relaxed, trying hard not to laugh in triumph. Garrus looked like he was trying not to throw up in his mouth.

“Whew, that was a bit too easy.” I said energetically.

Garrus turned to me, “I still don't understand why you had to make a show out of that if you were just going to give Aria those weapons to begin with.”

“There's a difference between giving something to a thief and letting a thief think they got away with something, Garrus.”

“And that is?”

“The thief doesn't suspect anything if he gets what he wants.”

“So that whole show in there was to get her on our side? Playing the fool for the sake of a longer play.” He added that last statement with a tone of amusement.

“Business transactions lead to strange bedfellows Mr. Vakarian. Ask me about some of my clients sometime, do I have stories.”

Now that the easy part was over, we were on our way to talk with Mordin Solus.  
The salarian that helped create the Genophage.


	19. The Scientist Salarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza, Garrus, and Mordin work together to save Omega Station. Our heroine then gets an uninvited guest....

The elevator opened, revealing the full extent of the damage done by the plague wracking Omega Station. Garrus and I donned our helmets and activated our hermetic seals. Better safe than sorry. With confidence we made our way towards the Quarantine Zone.

As quickly as we could we dropped the phrase Aria gave us to the guards and slipped through, making our way towards the makeshift medical facility among the sick and bodybags.

I stepped through the threshold to meet Mordin Solus, ready to shake his hand and start explaining what was going on. That is, I would have if he even formally addressed the fact he had guests. The salarian was pouring over a work desk full of samples, test tubes and beakers, scanning over the whole thing with his Omni-Tool and making several adjustments to multiple instruments scattered across his immediate area while mumbling to himself. He also looked like he hadn't slept in a few days.

“Perhaps this vaccine? No. Would make Batarians blind and leave human males impotent. Gas maybe? Through the air perhaps? No, no, no. Too dangerous and too many factors. Unless, maybe if I- yes! Yes!” He finally exclaimed as several instruments started glowing green and chiming. He shot upright, his face triumphant and his eyes slammed shut, clearly drinking in his scientific victory and not seeing the two armored individuals standing in front of him.

He spun around and ran to several other work zones, looking more like a college student whipping together a Masters' project at the last second than a scientist trying to stop a plague under duress. The singing didn't help this illustration.

“I am the very model of a scientist salaran. I've studied species turian, asari and batarian,” He pattered, quickly punching in complex formula into a machine while mixing together several chemical batches.

“I'm quite good at genetics as a subset of biology,” he sang on, his eyes darting back and forth between his Omni-Tool and the device mixing and pressurizing his sample, all with his back to us.

“Doctor Sol-” I tried to interject.

“Because I am an expert which I know is a tautology.” He carried on, completely undaunted, ignorant of the presence of others, drawing the notes out in a melodic tenor.

“My xenoscience studies ranges from urban to agrarian,” his tone dropping an octave and his notes going from quarters to whole.

“I am the very model of-ahh!!” He exclaimed, finally discovering he had an audience; Garrus remaining neutral in his body language, me on the verge of clapping.

“Doctor Solus, as much as I would love to comment on that rendition of Gilbert and Sullivan we do wish to talk with you on an urgent matter.” I insisted, walking over to him with a hand outstretched.

He just stared at the armored hand in front of him, his black eyes darting all over me. Then back to Garrus, then back to me.

I slowly blinked in disbelief.

“Aria sent you. Explains how you got past the guard. Your pistol is from T'Som Manufacturing, which means you don't work for her. Pirate raids deemed too risky.” Mordin muttered, speaking so fast I only registered half of what he was saying until after he finished speaking.

He took a quick breath, then gave me a wide smile. “Which means you must be here to help with plague cure.”

I took advantage and forcefully gave him the handshake he was holding out on giving me. “You got that right. And I may just know who devised this thing to begin with.”

“One problem at a time.” he let go of my hand and turned back to his labs. “The cure is ready, but we need to reach the ventilation systems further down to distribute it. Criminal element too extreme, unfettered. Too many factors.” He took a beat to catch a breath. “Will need your help.”

“Glad to give it, doctor.” I responded with zeal.

“That's all I needed to hear.” Mordin exclaimed as he reached into a nearby footlocker, pulling out an SMG, a handful of thermal clips, a helmet designed to fit his unusual salarian head, and a small shield generator module. He loaded up the SMG with rote familiarity, put his bucket on, and slotted the module into his suit, a quick distortion of the air around him and the faint smell of ozone the only indication that it was now live.

“A geneticist and a trained gunman? Something tells me he's going to get along famously with the others.” Garrus glibbed.

We traveled further into Omega's bowels in almost complete silence, the harsh red lights, industrial sounds and unfeeling sheet metal being more lively than any attempts at conversation....

At least until we hit the third elevator reaching the atmospheric circulation area and I decided to finally rip the band aid off.

“So care to talk about how you helped sterlized the Krogan, Doctor Solus?”

I began to feel Garrus' stare burn through my helmet along with his armored hand ready to punch me.

“It was necessary.” Mordin replied tersely.

The comment slowed Garrus' hand and took his gaze off of me.

“That's a bit of a bold statement to justify such an act.” Garrus chimed in. “The turian Primarch and military were of a retaliatory mind against the krogan, wanted to use it in response to their rampant expansion, while the Salarians were thinking more long-term. Yet you said it was necessary without hesitation?”

“It was simple. Krogan given opportunity to breed, given privileges on Council. Reward for fighting in Rachni Wars. But krogan population too unwieldy, unwilling to negotiate. War inevitable. Famine. Loss of resources. Then rebellions began. Genophage would keep numbers in check. For the good of the galaxy.” He grabbed another short breath. “Had to be done.”

“The ends justify the means.” I replied. “A very easy response to be made when we're talking about events that happens hundreds of years ago. I was referring to the new Genophage strain you developed recently.”

If Mordin was shocked at this bit of insider knowledge he didn't show it.

After a few beats where we could hear a pin drop he spoke again.

“During routine evaluation of krogan specimens there was a possibility that they were developing a resistance to the Genophage. Adapting. All work would have been for nothing. My team and I had to develop new strain, suppress threat of new rebellions. Once again. Had to be done.”

I readjusted my gauntlets and double checked the settings on my pistol as the elevator doors opened.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night doctor. But the way I see it, the crimes themselves aren't where the nightmares come from, it's the lies you tell to make them seem right.”

“Poetic, but not applicable. It was a solution to a problem, nothing more.”

“Pretty easy to say when that problem isn't staring you in the face.” Garrus interjected.

The doors opened to reveal several major problems aiming guns at our faces. Bullets rained down on the threshold, ripping and warping the metal frame of the door. Adrenaline rushed through and in a roar of effort, I erupted an energy shield to disrupt the gun fire.

Whoever these people are, they chose a good place for an ambush. The entire room was a giant open expanse, any chunks of cinderblock or large metal pipes that could feasibly be used as improvised cover were either destroyed or occupied by our armored and masked assailants. To make matters worse, there was even a squad on a catwalk above their improvised row of death.

“Break their height advantage!” Garrus yelled, slotting in something into his assault rifle and aiming at the catwalk, firing in short concentrated bursts.

I was barely hanging on where I was, my eezo reserves emptying into my improvised defense, sweat beading on my forehead.

“Integrity of walk is weakest at center! Enough force should break it!” Mordin yelled, holding out his Omni-Tool as an orange streak of flame came and struck several of the attackers up top, their armor catching fire and the people inside losing their collective cool.

I had to think fast. If I kept putting the shield up, I'd be a sitting duck. Garrus might be a crackshot, but even he has his limits. As for Mordin, his SMG is useless at this distance and that incendiary charge from his tool wasn't exactly something you could do nonstop.

Which meant I had to take another gamble and pray that my armor is as tough as those ass-kissing “partners” back on Thessia told me it was.

I began channeling as much of my power as I could, my arms flaring up in gooseflesh as I called upon more and more telekinetic force. Then I took full advantage of the power of a mass effect field and propelled myself at the speed of a bullet towards a poor soul on the walkway, funneling the remains of my shield into a battering ram.

It all happened in a frightful second. One moment I was pinned down by a bunch of armed mercs, then in a deafening roar I was on their catwalk with my arm going through the final movements of a sucker punch, my target flying through the air with his helmet shattered to pieces. I didn't have time to see his body hit the ground as I dropped to a firing stance and drew my pistol, taking advantage of the element of surprise. 

With several well placed shots, my Inquisitor pistol shredded past the remaining three mercs' shields and punched through their helmets like tissue paper. I efficiently ejected the spent thermal clip from my pistol then moved to the center of the catwalk and called upon my biotic power one more time. I compressed as much of the lawbreaking energy as I could into my arm, then with a savage blow I struck the support structure of the bridge. The old, unkept metal began to gave way, preparing to rain down upon the bewildered firing squad below. Before the last of my ground gave way, I leapt off the catwalk to land behind their firing line, activating a burst of power to slow my descent, and in an elegant mid-air turn, returned to face my would-be executioners with my Locust SMG readied. 

If any of then had enough sense to turn and run away from several hundred pounds of industrial debris, they were about to get a face automatic gunfire. Two of them did, they went down before the last bits of guardrail rang out through the cavernous chamber.

“Is that enough force for you?” I panted, sliding another thermal clip into my pistol.

“Sufficient, yes. Quite effective.” Mordin replied with amusement.

“Spirits,” Garrus said, looking at the results of my unfettered assault, “remind me never to get on your bad side.”

I quickly dropped to my knees and tried to catch my breath. My endurance has at least gotten better in the past two years. But it was when I ventured a look at one of the bodies that I realized something was wrong.

“Mordin...when exactly did the people in Omega started using guns covered in chitin?”

“They don't. It appears to be...” he performed a quick scan, “ as suspected. Collector tech. Makes sense. The plague holds signs of Collector origin. Must have left allies nearby to ensure it spreads throughout station.”

“That also raises another question.” Garrus mused while taking a closer look at the armor worn by the corpses. “Usually the lower levels are covered with gangs of Vorcha and varren attack dogs, striking in quick and harsh ambushes of shotguns, teeth and claws. This was much more disciplined for such simple-minded folk.”

A cold shiver went down my back as I remembered how things have gotten worse since I arrived. I didn't want to tempt fate any more than I have already.

“We can speculate once we get this cure pumping through these vents.” I readied my pistol while Mordin followed.

The following few minutes actually resembled normal, giant pile bodies and the smell of burning space fiberglass notwithstanding. We started introducing the cure into the atmospheric pumps and, thanks in no small part to Garrus' technical acumen, we were able to re-activate the fans. If the Collectors were planning on wiping out Omega Station to use as a base of operations for their Reaper overlords, it failed.

Then some gunfire ripped through my shields and punched me hard in the spine. I dropped to a knee and pivoted with my pistol at the ready, firing off one or two hip shots in the direction of my attacker. But that attacker in question wasn't a new threat. It was one of the bodies from before, I could tell because he was still wearing the shredded remains of the helmet I punched to hell and his right arm was jutted out at a wrong angle.

“You cannot prevent this.” The mangled assailant spoke with a distorted unnatural timbre. His arm began to pop back into place with several sickening cracks.  
“The Collectors are preparing you for your next stage of evolution.” He raised his Collector rifle, it beginning to glow with an energy we didn't see used before. “A future that has no place for unknowns such as yourself, Variza T'Som.”

His use of my name forced me to look into the bloodshot eye peering behind the half-helmet, and it wasn't a face I wanted to remember. Underneath was the distinctly stretched and warped sinew of a Vorcha, except wrapped in a cocoon of cybernetic enhancements. Vorcha have short life spans of maybe twenty years but they have a regeneration and adaptation factor that rival the krogan. Looks like the Reapers decided to hijack that to make some discounted super soldiers.

“Prepare yourselves for their arrival, as we purge those that resist this inevita-” the cybervorcha's evil monologue was cut off by a hail of flame erupting from his exposed face. He dropped his rifle in pain as the flames continued to spread into the rest of his body under the suit, smoke pouring from it like a demented kiln. I looked over my shoulder to see Mordin holding his SMG, the barrel glowing white hot red from the use of incendiary rounds.

Then the dropped rifle expelled a large beam of green energy across the wall, tearing chunks out of it with the ease of a missile assault.

“Get back to the elevator!” Mordin exclaimed. He didn't have to tell me twice. I ran for it at a dead sprint, trying not to think about the shifting of rubble, the oncoming reanimation of the vorchadroids. I didn't stop until I hit the back the elevator, panting heavily. As I turned around I saw Mordin and Garrus closely behind, a giant fireball erupting behind them.

Okay, I didn't see that coming.

In my stunned state Garrus hit several buttons on the display. The doors closed, the elevator rose, and we were safe.

“Alright, whose idea was it to go full action-hero back there?” I finally managed to gasp out.

“My idea.” Mordin replied. “Vorcha regeneration robust but makes them vulnerable to severe burns to their muscle tissue. Enough acclerant is applied and they become quite flammable. Or inflammable. Forget which. Doesn't matter.”

I couldn't help but chuckle. In this one instance, I was okay with the ends justifying the explosions.

The rest of the day played out in fastforward. Garrus and I gave Mordin a briefing about his mission. How the Collectors were tied to the vanishing of human colonies, and how it is towards some unknown project for the Reapers. Using his engineering and genetic know-how, he would be integral to figuring out how the Collector's have been causing thousands of people to vanish overnight and protecting Shepard's team from any other biological based attack. After discovering how large of a threat the Reapers were to the galaxy, Mordin gladly accepted.

Then came the waiting for the other shoe to drop: the arrival of Kasumi Goto and the rendezvous. I couldn't sleep that night, and it wasn't because I was afraid we were gonna get shot. Aria's word might as well be law on Omega, and I managed to play out of my depth well enough to make her overlook any direct retaliation. But it was just how serious things had become. No matter how much I try to help against the threat of the Reapers, it's almost as if they are one step ahead of me the entire time. Becoming more bold, harsh, and far-reaching with their tactics and methods than anything I experienced before in front of a computer screen.

I splashed some water in my face and returned to the pitiful mattress that was my bedroom. Except I had company. A very familiar looking woman in an alluring black dress with the smile of someone who just got away with a practical joke.

“Having fun, yet?” Jump said coyly.

I pulled out my pistol without hesitation and fired at her several times.


	20. Over The Hump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jump reveals herself to Variza and imparts some wisdom about the multiverse and the nature of Jumpers to her. Also, Variza gets ready for a date with a master thief.

It was after my twenty-second shot at Jump's face that I finally stopped. It cost me a thermal clip and it didn't do anything to her body – tore the hell out of the bed, the pillow, and the wall behind her though – but man did it feel good. I did note that there wasn't even a notable effect on her; I fired the gun and she simply stared like I was popping a firecracker.

I caught myself shaking as I ejected the clip. Jump just raised an eyebrow as I sat down. “Feel better now?” she said with a smile. The kind of smile you give someone after they finally confess some secret.

I could have easily been diplomatic and bit my tongue. On the other hand, this was building up for like five years.

So screw it, I gave her a piece of my mind.

“Oh that's fine other than the facts that psycho machine monsters have been trying to kill me since I got here, me being tangled up in bureaucratic red tape and kissing executive ass just to make sure we have better ways to kill said psycho machine monsters, every single person I talk to treats me like I'm some escaped mental patient, after spending half a decade in a galaxy full of wonderful people the one person I decide to be physically intimate with turns out to be a space succubus and, oh yeah, I miss having a fucking penis!” I threw my pistol at Jump's face for emphasis and got into her face, not even caring that the pistol went through her like air.

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to sit down to pee every single goddamn time!? Hell, do you know how annoying it is to have to parade around in a backless dress knowing that every single person there is thinking of doing it with you!? Pigs every single one of them! How do asari- hell how do women in general deal with this shit!? And the high heels! Why wear them? So you can show off how good you look!? Why would you want to when all you're going to get is more predatory looks like you're a rack of lamb or whatever!? Hell it would just make you a bigger target for aforementioned space succubi!”

Jump opened her mouth to speak but I cut her off swiftly.

“And I know damn well what you're going to say! I didn't have to wear that stuff! Different culture, different species! You don't think I don't know that!? I had to wear that stuff cuz I needed backers! And investors like to think they're taking advantage of an idiot! And what's a bigger looking idiot than some inexperienced ex-criminal that is trying too hard to use sex appeal!? Every single party dealing with some hotshot or whatever staring at my tits thinking he was going to take me for a ride meant more product getting out there! Cuz the joke's on them! I don't care about my bottom line! I care about stopping the Reapers! Because apparently in my enthusiasm for wanting to be a part of this world I forgot I'm not fucking Commander Shepard who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter because he was a fucking war hero for a couple decades before the fact so I had to scramble this shit together!”

My throat was burning with pain, my entire body was shaking with fury and I could feel my vocal chords clutch up. I didn't care if I was going to go mute for a while. It was totally worth it.

Then Garrus ran into my room, assault rifle readied and eyes wide with panic. An instant later he relaxed, looking towards me. Clearly he was expecting a group of cutthroats being terrorized by the infamous Blue Bitch, not an asari in sweatpants and a sports bra towering over her mattress with a manic look in her eye.

“Variza, you do realize being on a covert mission is the last place you want to yell your head off right?” His tone was cold and critical. “If someone seriously wanted you dead, there are at least three sniper nests that could have taken you out using your little outburst as cover.”

I motioned towards Jump and gave him a leading look. He turned to look at Jump. Except he just... looked past her. Like she was a hologram or an optical illusion.

“Look, I get it,” he sighed. “These past few years have been nuts, and I've noticed that a certain somebody hasn't been scheduling some much needed medical appointments.”

“I'm as fit as ever and why aren't you addressing the woman on the bed?”

Garrus did a double take to the bed then back to me. “I meant your mental health, Variza. From the sound of it, you need it. Now excuse me, some of us are actually trying to sleep.” Then he left, closing the door behind me firmly.

Jump bowed her head knowingly, handing me my pistol like it was a squirt gun. I took a deep breath and counted to ten. I then got up and holstered my pistol to my full suit of armor hanging on the wall nearby.

“Well, now that we've established that no one else can see you and everyone else can hear me having one-way conversations to the point of possible institutionalization, let me try to ask this following question without screaming.” I clenched my fists several times and tried keeping my voice as level as possible. “What in the name of Zeus's butthole are you doing here?”

Right in front of my eyes a party hat and a noisemaker materialized on Jump's person. Several pops happened around me and I was showered in colorful confetti.

“Congratulations!” She declared as loud as possible. Then concert band music blasted throughout the room playing “For He's A Jolly Good Fellow” in total zeal. I shuddered at the sudden change in music and tucked my head down on reflex. Darting my head left and right expecting another noise complaint from Garrus – even though I knew in some small way he wouldn't hear it – I looked up and asked the burning question: congratulations for what?

“For hitting the ninety-sixth percentile of Jumpers.” She cheered, suddenly in a bubbly cheerleader outfit, pom-poms and all, spelling out the letters nine and six over and over... somehow, and bouncing on the remains of the mattress like it was a trampoline. The fanfare carried on, undaunted.

“Will you stop that!?” I barked. The band stopped playing immediately, save for an errant tuba choking out an amusing off-key squeal. Sorry Garrus, my tolerance for impromptu small room parades is very low. In another instant, she was back on the mattress, returned to her sultry lady of the night look.

“First of all, there have been other... what did you call them Jumpers?” Jump nodded. “Alright. There have been other Jumpers? And second, why is that so important?”

“To your first question, yes. Yes there have.” Her tone was frank. “Hate to pop your bubble sport but just being a Jumper isn't special. You think I pick and choose some special little round peg in square hole and let them go on cool adventures? That would be silly and boring. I don't do bored.” That last part she said like a spoiled kid stuck in a waiting room. The look she added to it on the other hand was quite sinister.

“So the ninety-sixth percentile thing is special why?”

“The other ninety-five percent have died at this point.” She said with a smile. “Dead. Returned home. With nothing. On their first Jump.”

I was trying to think on the positive side of things. That I was alive and apparently part of a certain elite. But instead it felt like there was a rock in my stomach.

“May I ask how?”

“Oh a variety of reasons. Some couldn't cope with the actual world's rules and got in over their head. Some of them are your standard armchair atheists who think they can “logic” the world into serving them and they got shot in the face. Some just can't handle the change in technology or time period and make things worse for them. Some kind of forget that the world is more than just the media it was presented in. There was a guy who thought he could win an entire war in space by getting a certain weapon and power armor. He went AWOL after being court martialed for breaking that world's version of the Geneva Conventions and he was gunned down. It was hilarious.” Jump laughed.

Considering that what I was left with in this world isn't too far off from that poor soul I felt the rock in my stomach get bigger and spikier.

“Which of course leads me to you and your cute blue mammaries.” she teased. I barely fought the impulse to slap her across the face, instead I just crossed my arms.

“Honestly I wasn't expecting much. A bunch of money, some futuristic weapons, and some healing items just in case you got a boo boo, and choosing a race dependent entirely on maximum combat efficiency instead of wanting to see how the other way lives. So standard for a video game, so limited for a decade of life, wouldn't you say?” I looked away from her, trying to hide the sting of her words.

“Yeah, not gonna lie, I was expecting you to die on Purgatory Station.” she added callously. I immediately bit my tongue. She was right on that count. “But here you are. Five years strong, the head of your own financially floundering weapon company, actually got out of your bubble a bit and made some friends, and you got the ball rolling a bit early on the whole Reaper thing. Good job.”

“Well I knew they were coming and had an idea of what could be done to prevent it and I gave it a shot. You know, the whole “would you kill Hitler” thing?” I retorted.

But something else started bothering me in the back of my mind. The idea that I was being sleighted by Jump crept in and sat in my consciousness.

“Wait a minute... that's why you didn't fully explain anything before at the tavern.” I breathed.

“Ah. So I didn't. Yeah my bad.” She waved her hand dismissively.

“So all you heard out of me was I liked this world, a particular race in it and the battles in it and assumed I was just another adrenaline junkie looking for some consequence-free escapism?” I could feel my blood boil and my voice rising despite the protesting of my shredded vocal cords.

“A junkie that read a book once but that's about it.”

I started to get up and began taking some deep breaths again. I swear to god if I bit my tongue any further I'd bleed to death.

But then Jump got up and put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a look of...dare I say it... sympathy.

“But you know what? I was wrong, and I'm sorry.” her tone comforting. And like a balloon getting deflated, most of my anger left me. I didn't want to speculate as to why but her expression seemed as genuine as I'd seen out of Jump.

“That's another reason why I'm here. I'm going to be a bit more upfront with you now, since you're officially head and shoulders above the rest. So how about we go into your warehouse and we can talk in better company.”

My warehouse? I felt around in my sweatpants pockets and felt the old simple key still there. I never bothered to use it on any door. I was too busy establishing my cover as Variza T'Som that I completely forgot about that resource at my disposal. Shit.

“Wow. I know I said I was going to be nicer but...” Jump bit down on her fingers and looked away, her face scrunched up. “You haven't done anything to your warehouse?! Oh my goodness that is hilarious!” Raucous canned laughter filled the small room, mixed with Jump finally losing it, turning her back to me and holding her sides.

“You gonna keep laughing at me or are you gonna put your money where your mouth is?” I said as flat and deadpan as I could muster through clenched teeth.

She exhaled sharply and with a quick motion fished my key out of my pocket.

“Alright fine, when did you lose your sense of humor?” she began miming the act of opening a door in the threshold.

“Somewhere between going to jail and surviving death by Ardat Yakshi snu-snu.”

Jump flashed me a quick smile, then her profile became silhouette by a blinding light from the threshold. As my eyes adjusted I saw a large industrial looking storage facility. It looked to be at least twenty-thousand square feet in area and was lit by simple florescent bulbs, highlighting a simple yet dull concrete floor. There were no windows on the simple off white painted walls and there appeared to be no other doors going in.

Jump stepped inside and motioned for me to follow.

“So...you were being literal when you said it was a warehouse.” I smiled.

“The Cosmic Warehouse my dear Jumper, and it will be where you can keep any useful items or vehicles you get along the way. It's also a place where you can rest in more...conventional accoutrements.” She gestured at the last statement towards...my home.

My simple single floor house that I have spent most of my life was right there, sans the drive-way and front lawn. Like an asari possessed I ran to the front door and opened it. The living room exactly as it was with its red floor carpeting, floral print love seat, light green couch and simple beige rocking chair, all tied together by a flat screen television on the plain white wall. I wandered through the rest of the rooms trying to see if everything was here. It mostly was. No computer or internet network set-up, and the television in question had no cable box. Other than that. It felt like home.

After discovering that the kitchen was full of regular twenty-first century drinks and snacks I flopped on the couch after cracking open a can of Coca Cola and drinking deeply. That rich sugaring carbonated teeth rotting taste, how I missed it. Jump was sitting on the love seat opposite, a genuine smile on her face.

“So does this make up for the bad first impression?” Jump asked.

I looked around for a while, drinking in just how much of this simple place of warmth I missed so badly. Five years away from here... I felt my eyes start to tear up a bit but fought them back.

“It's a start.”

The next three days waiting for Aria to arrange my meeting with Kasumi went by relatively fast. Not because of the Queen of Omega's hospitality or the cheerful disposition of a space station at the farthest reaches of the galaxy full of unpredictable criminals, lowlifes, and downtrodden homeless, but because of the renovations I was doing in my Warehouse.

Thanks to dipping into my trust fund a bit I was able to purchase a brand new Kodiak shuttle from a local merchant, was even able to get him to rip out some manual shut off stuff since he knew me by reputation, and through Jump's instructions I was able to fly it inside no problem. Cash upfront, non traceable. Then after window shopping for several top of the line examples of certain medical facilities and inventory management software, I was able to work with Jump to get a working medbay and storage terminal in the warehouse as well. Garrus was ignorant of these proceedings, if he wasn't accessing an extranet terminal for private conversations, he was cleaning his rifles and tweaking their sights. Considering how expensive such transmissions are in the Terminus Systems I had to assume he was updating Shepard on our progress.

The meeting at Afterlife could best be described as cheerfully hostile. Aria closed down the club so no scantily clad asari dancers or EDM pulsing through the building. We were searched and stripped of our weapons, and when the crates finally arrived full of my payment to the criminal queen, I had to witness her and several trusted grunts open them up, examine and test them. You don't become the head of Omega by being a fool after all.

We were then seated at a booth and told to wait. It was a relatively uncomfortable thirty minutes. Garrus and I didn't even try small talk, we really didn't have too much in common anyway.

Then a profile of a woman materialized in front of us, winking into existence as a high pitched whine quickly died down to nothing, a slight discharge of energy flying off of the bent light around her. Kasumi Goto, one of the greatest thieves in the galaxy had revealed herself. She was a bit on the short side, though her lightly plated catsuit left little to the imagination. Her figure was lithe and built for absolute dextrous movement, the kind catburglars wish they had. Her face was partially hidden behind a cloth hood, making it difficult to get a look at any more distinct facial features. Aside from her lower lip marked with a simple purple square of lip gloss, she had no real defining physical characteristics. Simply put, she was a professional, but one that enjoyed a bit of a personal touch.

“Miss Variza T'Som I take it?” her voice was light and playful, a smirk accompanying it.

“And by your appearance you must be Kasumi Goto.” I bowed my head in greeting.

“I'm flattered.” her smile brightened, though I noticed movement in her eyes. Looking for possible exit and ambush points no doubt. “So tell me why do I have the pleasure of speaking to the kind of people I wind up stealing from?”

I looked around at Aria's entourage and saw they kept putting their fingers to some ear pieces, clearly keeping Aria abreast of our proceedings. I couldn't have her people get involved, it would lead to more complicated matters with me and her, which would mean a larger paper trail leading back to my company breaking the shaky edifice of success I was trying to keep up.

I activated a data pad and slid it across the table towards her, quirking my eyebrows.

After an uneasy bout of silence, Kasumi looked up from the data pad.

“Alright, I agree. I will undertake this mission. On one condition. The payment offered by Aria T'loak for my time here I shall redeem now.”

“Which was?” The rock in my stomach that vanished three days ago apparently had a litter of pebbles.

“Your assistance in a heist I am undertaking. That's all.” Her smile now mixed with a twinge of inquisitiveness.

Oh thank goodness. Another chance to slap on some armor, load up some guns, and help a master thief plunder some poor soul. The spy thriller I've been waiting for.

“And if I disagree I'll be shot on sight?”

“Either that or she'll 'find a way to make you regret it for the rest of your life' as she said.”

“Well then, guess I'm in. Whose the mark and how are we going to get it?” I asked, a bit too giddy at the prospect of doing a heist.

“I have a plan for those already. The bigger question is what size dress are you? I need to know so we can coordinate for our date.”

I blinked several times.


	21. One Last Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza and Kasumi attend a dinner party.

The planet Bekenstein is a particular accomplishment for the human race. It has been compared to be on par with the asari industrial paradise of Illium due to its grand luxury goods production. Every major installation in the galaxy wanted their product, even the Citadel. It has since evolved into a resort of opulence for humanity's wealthy elite, where they indulge in excess and pay no mind to beings of lower stature. More glittering than diamonds, and more expensive than surgery.

And Kasumi and I were getting ready to rob the suckers blind.

Our shuttle was rocketing through FTL space, en route to the party being held on the jewel of a planet, us touching up our make-up and adjusting our dress the entire way.

“What is the optimal way to deal with targets in our way until we get into the vault?” I asked while applying onyx black lip gloss.

“Make it look like an accident and make sure you're alone. Bekenstein has a high suicide rate due to local inflation for standards of living cost and high job stress. But due to me not having a full layout for security patrols and camera placement, let's err on the side of caution.” Kasumi replied, adjusting some tasteful earrings and checking her trimmed but lightly decorated nails.

“Right,” I casually opened a pocket mirror and started applying eye shadow and blush. “Our cover just so I remember is that I am visiting Bekenstein in the hopes of establishing some sort of joint venture with our mark, some kind of elite security equipment for the fat cats worried about assassination or uprisings. And you will be...” my voice trailed off, my mind drawing a blank, flickering to other minute details about the plan like windows of opportunity and the logistics of getting our gear through security hoping that would fill it in.

“I am a simple nobody who you've brought on hand as eye candy and a symbol of your dominance for appearances' sake. People in the Bek pride themselves on having power over others by being smarter or quicker than most.” She closed my pocket mirror and planted a kiss on my lips, her hand going to my thigh. I felt a shiver shoot through my body as her lips touched mine, her warm body pressing against my dress. I clamped down on the impulse to punch her in the throat, thanks a lot Morinth, and tried to relax. But I did feel my hand push back on Kasumi's shoulder, breaking the kiss. I took a moment to compose myself.

“Considering the nature of what we're trying to lift from Donovan Hock's vault don't you think that's a little inappropriate?” I gasped.

“Oh, I haven't forgotten, but appearances are everything. And some smudged lipstick says a lot with no words wouldn't you say?” She replied with a sly wink, leaning back.

I had to reel back in my lizard brain on wanting to “make the illusion more genuine” so I turned to look out the space port, streaks of blue across a canvas of black greeted me as we maintained FTL, and took some deep breaths. Maybe I should get Dr. Lissandre on the horn ASAP....

“So getting our weapons and armor through security?” Kasumi replied, breaking the awkward silence.

“Oh.” I snapped back to her with a devious smile. “Trust me, I know how to reach our gear when we need it.”

“I certainly hope so. You just told me to hand you my outfit and tools then made a big deal about hiding them somewhere later. Back on Omega.”

“Oh don't worry, as long as we have easy access to a door, we'll be fine.” I replied with a smirk.

Kasumi cocked an eyebrow.

“What? No follow-up question?”

“Nope. I might be a thief, but I do have some professional integrity.” she gave me a coy glance.

“Alright, so here's how it'll go down...”

Donovan Hock's estate was indulgently excessive, a look always in vogue on Bekenstein. There were armed guards for sure, some of them even sporting my product which would imply privately contracted; just another way for Hock to show off his deep pockets. Kasumi and I made our greetings, glass smiles all the way as we made our way past the fountains and manicured gardens heading inside the party proper.

There was the usual scans for weapons, hidden tools, data pads or data chits that could be used for blackmail, and of course a full body scan. Kasumi went through first, and as we discussed, all she was wearing was her clothing and a smile. Aside from a slightly accelerated heart rate the scan turned up negative. I went up next, and of course the body scan pulled up the key to my warehouse inside my bra.

The guard pulled me aside and demanded an explanation.

“Do you really think I was going to try to steal an old earth vehicle or something?” I quipped, twirling the key in my fingers, it resembling an old twenty-first century house key, hoping my faux ignorance of its use would put him off guard.

“Miss T'Som, glad to see you are becoming acquainted with my staff.” An Afrikaans-accented voice from the party projected into the hall. Donovan Hock had stepped out to greet me.

I turned to face him, holding out my hand in greeting. He took a low bow and kissed it. I seriously considered amputating it afterwards. I decided instead to flash a smile and give slight nod.

“Donovan, what an awkward first impression.” I giggled, slipping into my fancy party persona.

He looked up with a smile and cupped my hand in his. “Oh I do so apologize for the security measures that weren't mentioned in the invitation. Can never be too sure in this day and age.”

“Mr. Hock there is still the matter of her item. It can be used as an improvised weapon and we were told to have a zero tolerance policy for weaponry save for approved staff.” The guard interjected.

I shot a sideways glance to Kasumi, she looked worried. I motioned her to join me.

“Oh I do apologize Donovan. The key is actually a keepsake from a friend of mine. It's a bit of a good luck charm that I keep with me. Sorry I didn't fully think about how deadly it could be.” I shrugged.

Donovan's mind went to work and I could see it. He could tell me to put the key back on the shuttle, or turn me away completely on a technicality. Either way he was going to lose favor with me, and he needs my business.

“How about this then Miss T'Som,” his face of concentration snapping to one of faux concern, “we leave your keepsake here with security. For you to pick up when you leave. And I swear on the lives of my men that if it goes missing I will personally see to their termination.”

I left him hanging for a while, putting my hand to my lips, eyes moving between Donovan and his guards. I was expecting to see sweat on his brow, but to Donovan's credit, his smile never faded.

“Alright then.” I handed the key to the guards and they promptly put it into a clear storage tub and sealed it. “But if I see it isn't there, heads will roll, kay?” I slipped an arm around Kasumi's waist and pulled her close.

“But of course Miss T'Som,” Hock replied, gesturing towards the party proper. “May I offer you and your...friend a drink?”

“For me, yes. None for her, she got a little...out of hand on the trip over here.”

“Ah.” Donovan moved towards the refreshment table, leaving the two of us to his personal section of the party. A small circular area full of elaborate art exhibits and people in fancy suits pretending to care.

“Think you can get him to roll over?” Kasumi retorted.

I moved close to her and whispered in her ear, “Find a bathroom stall in the lady's room with no cameras then get back to me. I'll keep Donovan busy.”

“I'll stay quiet in the meantime. What's the cover?”

I kissed her neck. “Oh.”

“Humans feel nervous around public displays of affection. Perfect cover.”

Kasumi broke away from me, but not without making a bit of a show of it with a coy smile and a giddy jump in her gait.

Donovan arrived later with a tall glass full of bubbling dark violet drink.

“The latest blend from Thessia, the best of home I'd say wouldn't you Miss T'Som?” He took a sip from a glass of his own drink. I tipped the glass but didn't take a sip, double checking for unusual smells or something off around the rim. Kasumi gave me a small primer about poisons and truth-telling serums from her past infiltration experiences and how it was always a good thing to fake a sip first and check the target's reaction. This unfortunately wasn't Donovan's first rodeo either, his face still formed into a wax smile.

“Well you know how to make someone feel at home.” I replied. “Shall we get to business?”

Donovan gestured me to a small circle of luxurious chairs, complete with fancy pieces of modern art and servants holding out trays of drinks. It would have looked like a throne among the already impressive display of exquisite exhibits and laughing party guests... if the row of seats weren't already occupied by another man.

“Miss T'Som, allow me to introduce you to another interested party in this venture. Mister Jack Harper.”

I could feel each blood cell in my body turn to ice at the name. To everyone else, Jack Harper was an unassuming man of advanced age, bits of dull silver tucked away in his brown hair, wearing a sharp business suit and casually smoking a cigarette. Despite getting looks from the guests, he puffed shamelessly, just because tobacco-related diseases have been wiped out by advanced medical science doesn't mean the social stigma around smoking magically vanished as well.

But to me I knew who he truly was: the mysterious head of the militant humanity-first organization Cerberus. The Illusive Man. The leader of the group that has been giving Shepard and The Alliance so much trouble. The ones who were racing to uncover the secret agenda of The Collectors themselves for their own personal ends.

And he was ten feet – and a quick biotic snap of the neck – away from me.

I smiled through clenched teeth. “Pleased to meet you Mister Harper.”

He simply shot me a look of disdain and blew smoke in my general direction. “We were in the middle of discussing some business Mr. Hock?”

“Why yes of course. But as you can tell, there is a third interested party,” Hock mollified, offering me a chair. I slipped into it and took a slightly deeper drink from my glass, I was going to need it.

“So now that you're both here, I do wish to discuss your individual proposals. As you can tell-”

“Considering the fact that I reached out to you at this venture and was the first to arrive, wouldn't you say Miss T'Som's claim in your affairs are now moot?” Jack interrupted, shooting me a look of disdain.

I straightened my back and put on my Ice Queen look. Alright Jack, you wanna play character assassination? Bring it on.

“Technically Mister Harper, I reached out to Hock a day before the party started. With the express purpose of wishing to do business with him. So silly of me, but either you tried to pitch a proposal to him unannounced at a party, which if I recall from human customs is ostensibly a leisurely activity in which case how dreadfully uncouth of you, or you called Hock before me and he didn't tell me, in which case,” I shot a mild pout towards Hock, “shame on you.”

Jack looked embittered by my accusation, looking away to take another drag on his cigarette; Hock turned pensive. “It was more a matter of context Miss T'Som.” he finally said.

My smile turned venomous. “Ah, I see what is going on then Donovan. You were expecting a bit more of an under-the-radar nature of my visit. Since what you do isn't exactly smiled upon by the Alliance.”

“I am merely a curator of the arts Miss T'Som, and sometimes collecting those pieces can lead to dangerous situations.” Hock justified.

“And due to the more aggressive crackdown of those sales by the Alliance, you were hoping to get some more firepower to even the odds. I had a criminal record once, Donovan, I know the game all too well.” I snapped.

“All the more reason then to hear my proposal since it has no... prior association with the Alliance.” Jack chimed in, smelling blood in the water.

It was before I could follow-up on Jack's regained control that Kasumi put her hand on my shoulder, her breath warm in my ear. I flashed a toothy smile to the two slimeballs and rose from my seat.

“If you gentlemen will excuse me, I do believe I am needed elsewhere. Please, by all means discuss in my absence. That was clearly the plan from the beginning.” I then made a bit of a show of storming off towards the ladies room, Kasumi pulled close to me the whole time.

I had to stop myself from vomiting in the sink or splashing cold water in my face. It would be on camera for one and it would ruin the make-up for two. I had to keep my facade up a little while longer. The rich mahogany stall doors, marble sinks and gold-decorated towel dispensers looking more and more gaudy as my mood soured. Instead, I opened a stall door with my partner in tow and closed the door behind us.  
“So what now?” Kasumi asked, curiosity seeping into her tone.

I slipped a hand down the front of my dress and pulled my warehouse key from my bra and twirled it between my fingers and smiled.

“But how did-”

“Shhh.” I put a finger to her lips. “A magician never reveals her secrets.” I then lightly flicked her ears and made circular gesture around the stall. She nodded in understanding. She might have been a Master Thief, but her professional cool was clearly obliterated by trying to suss out a miracle of a lift that didn't happen. Jump made it clear to me that this key was mine and no one else's. If it gets taken or is out of my possession for anything north of five minutes, it will return to me. Simple as that.

I turned to the stall's lock and awkwardly pressed the key into the electronic lock. To my surprise, the key slipped inside the interface, a dull white glow surrounding the metal of the key. I turned the key and opened the stall door. A column of white light filled the stall, and the grand majesty of my large warehouse awaited.

Although it was diminished somewhat by me taking a few tentative steps at the entrance to grab the equipment bags. Kasumi's armor, Omni-Tool, SMG and cloaking device were handed over promptly. As for me, I would have to wait a little while longer to suit up. All the same I kept my bag of stuff a few crucial milimeters away from the exit's threshold and motioned Kasumi to come inside.

“Alright, this is new, and I've seen quite a lot behind closed doors.” Kasumi gasped in delight.

I closed the door behind me. “Don't worry, there's a kind of time dilation effect while we're in here. Think you can take a moment to stop gazing at this and give me a sit rep?” I snapped my fingers in front of Kasumi's face.

“Oh. Right.” She shook her head. “So there aren't many guards but they are armed to the teeth. Should be easy to sneak past them with my cloak but I will need a distraction to get access to Hock's vault. Also a re-routing for its security systems which I can do easily with my Omni-Tool, and a voice profile of Hock.”

“Which means I'll have to get him to talk.” I replied, slipping a small chit under the sleeve of my dress. “And considering how desperate he is looking for some sort of reprieve from the Alliance's raids to the point that he's willing to get into bed with Cerberus, I think I know just where to apply pressure.”

“My Omni-Tool is linked to the recorder. Wait for two quick vibrations then start recording. My program should do the rest.” Kasumi commented as she slipped into her armor, hitting several glowing icons on her Tool. “Wait, did you say Cerberus?”

“I...can't exactly prove it with hard evidence but let's just say I have a sixth sense about some of the guests.”

Arguably the biggest problem when it comes to knowing the true identity of The Illusive Man is he does a fantastic job of hiding his goings on. Shell companies, hundreds of officials paid off to lie for him, a paper trail that's iron clad, you name it. The Illusive Man wasn't a title he gave himself after all.

“We'll rendezvous at the vault door once my distraction goes live.” I followed up.

“Just one question...” Kasumi gestured around my warehouse.

“Do you wanna rob this bastard or not?”

She nodded.

“Then don't ask anymore questions.”

When the door to the bathroom stall opened again, Kasumi had activated her cloak and followed me out. I then washed my hands and stepped outside, taking some deep breaths to keep myself under control. This wasn't Kasumi's first rodeo, but this was mine.

I then stepped back into Hock's party...and into the face of Jack Harper.

“Excuse me, Mister Harper, you may want to give me my space. I'm not exactly in a good mood today.”

“I'm on to you Variza.” He said, his voice emotionless and tactical.

I felt goosebumps shoot through my body. If I had any hair on my head it would be standing up. He leaned close to me, his notably artificial lightning blue eyes piercing me with cold precision.

“You might have everyone else fooled but I know exactly what you are.”

I readied some biotic power. Jack does have a network of spies, maybe even a greater connection to the network of spies held by The Shadow Broker. And C-Sec's arrest of me is on record, any detective could in theory punch incongruities in Garrus' fabricated record. I prepared for the worst.

“You're nothing but a mere thief.” He practically spat the words.

“Not according to the asari patent offices Jack.” I sneered through my teeth without missing a beat, dispelling my built up power. His nostrils flared in anger but he slowly backed off.

“You might have helped Commander Shepard save the Citadel, but your blatant theft of others' work for your own benefit tells me you are nothing more than a parasite. You will not stand in the way of humanity's progress. One way or another your secrets will be found out.” His eyes motioned to a guard nearby, an Inquisitor pistol at his hip, “And the day that happens is the day the galaxy will be in complete order as it should be.”

“Let me guess, with humanity as something greater than before?” I remarked. “Jack, humanity has some of the greatest minds of the age and some of the most talented warriors in the galaxy. You've already done so much, but something tells me you've forgotten the galaxy is more than just a place to house your ego.” I snapped back. “But I know one way to truly make it better...”

I walked past him, running into his shoulder, which would have been a bit more imposing if I wasn't in the body of a lithe blue woman with a soldier's build doing it to a six foot tall man in his sixties, and said under my breath in his ear.

“...it can do without snakes in the grass like you.”

I didn't bother to look back at The Illusive Man as I returned to Donovan. Whatever deal those two made, it was one I'd have to handle elsewhere. Not my circus, not my monkeys. But I did get some looks from party guests when they realized I entered the bathroom with my date and returned without her with a look of confidence. Might as well lean in to those notions....

I sat back down at my chair, my purple drink still there, and gave Hock my best empathetic expression.

“So Donovan, now that I'm a bit more relaxed now, do you mind if we try this again?” The device on my wrist vibrated twice. I took a sip from the glass and placed my hand under my glass-holding wrist, my index finger ready to press record.

“You don't have to worry about this being a sting operation or some nonsense. I'm just focusing on expanding my business, and you know what they say about businesses and bedfellows right?” I darted my eyes back towards the bathroom and managed a coy smile, taking even more smaller sips from the glass. Hock seemed more nervous than anything else. I set my glass down and gave him my best look.

“The point is, I am simply looking at you as a client who wants more security with what he holds dear and that is all I care about. Saving the world was just a means to get out of jail between you and me. Honestly, the galaxy is more interesting when it comes to things people don't know about. So consider this for exactly what it is. Off the record, no strings attached. I have product, you have demand, let's talk turkey as you humans say.”

Hock's demeanor slowly changed to something more friendly. I hit the record button and proceeded to nod and smile. He went on about how raids by the Alliance and the resulting pressure has been leading to hectic conflicts among the major PMCs in the galaxy: Eclipse, Blue Sun, and the Blood Pack. Which meant a lot of contracts being terminated. Eclipse particularly losing a lot of pull and manpower after the Geth attack on Purgatory Station. In-fighting translating to higher rates for clients, more clandestine meetings due to them usually being hired for high-end crime, leading to the more white-collar scum like Hock desperate for choice. His solution was to simply hire his own men and kit them out with the weapons and armor from my company. Making his key business ventures of smuggling, art dealing, and arms dealing to go by a little smoother. I did bring up the absurdity of a black market arms dealer making deals with a weapons dealer but he merely smiled. After what felt like an eternity my wrist vibrated again. I put my hand up to my ear to scratch my temple, Kasumi's voice coming at a barely audible whisper with two simple words, “we're ready.”

“So Miss T'Som, what would you say would be a sensible order for an operation as...modest as mine?” Hock asked.

I rose from my chair, “If you don't mind I'd like to get a better look at what my guns will be protecting, care to show me around?”

And so Hock gave me the tour of the party. A lot of turian paintings, asari abstract sculptures, and even a few human pieces of modern art. I'm no art critic so I simply ooo'd and ahh'd as Hock showed off what he had. Then we got close to the checkpoint and I deployed my distraction.

“Donovan, where's my key?” I asked, eyes wide and staring at the translucent tub under heavy guard.

“What do you mean Miss T'Som? It's right th-” he froze mid-sentence, seeing what I saw, his face white as a sheet.

He stormed towards the checkpoint and started yelling, raising hell. And I joined in. Spinning a story from whole cloth about how the key was the last of its kind and a keep sake from a friend that taught me so much while I lived my life on a colony among humans. How I've had it for well over a century and that it was irreplaceable. The Blue Bitch demonstrated her namesake in full regalia in ten hellish minutes.

“I am going to head to the bathroom to collect my date Donovan. And if I don't see that key waiting for me when I go to leave you can forget so much as getting a knife from me!” I bellowed, purple in the face.

I stormed past the guests, some asari shaking their heads in disdain like I was some pampered spoiled brat. Let them talk, Donovan's security were scrambling around looking for a tiny piece of metal under threat of termination, distraction deployed at the cost of face is a price well paid.

I slipped past several guards as they ran towards the commotion caused by Hock threatening to throw half his staff into the vacuum of space and made my way down a staircase towards a large intimidating steel door. I stepped up to it and tapped in quick succession. The door opened and Kasumi awaited.

“How much time do we have before security gets back online?”

“I'd say about five minutes. What about your distraction?”

“Oh I'd say based on Hock's desperation somewhere between five to ten minutes tops.” I smiled, slipping off my shoes. She smiled back.

“I like your style, Variza.”

“Well I do my best.”

Everything afterwards moved by at breakneck speed. Kasumi and I moved through countless corridors of dull gray highlighted by simple industrial lights, slipping through doors with some good old fashioned elbow grease and breezing past security checkpoints abdicated by Hock's men.

It was after what felt like an eternity in a maze we finally made it to his Vault proper. A large open area full of some of the most precious pieces of various cultures under secure glass. Da Vinci, Monet, some more eclectic and alien talents I knew little about. There was even the head of the Statue of Liberty hanging in the back of the room. But Kasumi made a beeline for a particular artifact in the room, a small plastic looking box with a handle and a gray cylinder coming from it. It took me a minute, but I knew what it had to be.

“That's a graybox isn't it?”

“One that holds the memories of my old partner, yes.” She could barely contain her excitement as she cut through the glass in a rote motion with her Omni-Tool.

“Well now I know how far you'd go to get closure with someone,” I quipped, waiting for her to remove the graybox completely from its cage before putting the key into the electronic lock of its case, opening a small door to the warehouse. I then gestured Kasumi to throw it in. She complied.

Her Omni-Tool gave out several rapid beeps. She turned her arm to me, revealing a timer of thirty seconds. I looked around for something, anything that could fit through a small display door. Sadly Hock's private stash was full of large and delicate pieces so handling them into the warehouse was out of the question.

I motioned to Kasumi to get out back through the vault door. We got what we came for, now it was a matter of getting out.

It was after roughly ten seconds of getting through the vault that security clattered back on again. Laser grids crisscrossed over the open threshold, klaxons started to shriek, and red lights began flashing left and right. Kasumi cloaked and made her way through. As for me, I kept my heels off and ran back into the hall.

It was after I stormed back up the stairs that I found the party in total disarray. Hock's guard now went from scrambling on the ground looking for a key to being on high alert from a vault breach. Also the windows and exit were sealed with blast doors. Great.

I slipped on my high heels and pinched the bridge of my nose while moving as bristly as I could towards the checkpoint.

“And now I have a splitting headache from all of this commotion! Are you trying to piss me off to get a better deal or something Donovan!?” I yelled over the klaxons. Hock might as well have seen the devil in my eyes with the expression he gave.

“Miss T'Som, there appears to have been a security breach. For everyone's personal safety you must stay with the others until my men have secured the area.” He studdered, sweat beading on his brow.

I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close.

“How's this for secure? I walk out of that door right now, get on my shuttle and leave right the hell now and when you find my key you hand deliver it to me with a bouquet of red roses and a handwritten apology note.”

“But I-”

“And maybe I won't rip every single one of you apart with my mind in the next two minutes.” My anger was boiling, and I tightened my grip on his throat to drive my point.

“Wait a minute...where is your partner? The girl you came with?”

Crap. I hate not thinking this stuff completely through. And my reputation as an ex-criminal only goes so far.

Several of Hock's men aimed their rifles at me, demanding that I unhand their boss. After a few crucial seconds I sighed and loosened my grip....

Then I grabbed one of the guards in my biotic grip and threw him in a wide crescent, forcing him to collide bodily. The party guests screamed in shock at my violence. I quickly changed my grip and used Hock like a body shield, telekinetically grabbing the downed guard's pistol into my open hand.

“Alright boys, put the guns down and your meal ticket gets to live a lot longer!” I bellowed.

“As for the rest of you, I suggest ducking for some cover!”

A sharp bang filled the air and I felt something whiz past my ear, causing my heart to stop. Whoever these guys are, Donovan trained them well. They weren't standing down, and they were trying to take me out. And I'm in a dress.

A second thud filled the room and a small cylinder rolled towards me and Hock. I closed my eyes and pushed Hock while running the other way. Then I felt hands clap over my ears and drag me to the ground. A loud bang shortly followed!

I looked up, half expecting Jump to greet me with a sad grin and a star-shaped sticker with “You Tried!” written on it. Instead, it was Kasumi beaming with mischief. It was a flashbang, clever girl.

“We don't have much time! I'll try to hack the security system but I need your help!” She screamed, projecting over the cacophony of panic. I nodded, and with a quick wink of acknowledgment she vanished once again with her cloak.

I scanned my environment, looking for a door. And there was... on the other side of the room leading to the balcony. I only had so much time so I called on my biotics once again after taking a standing leap, this time channeling the energy behind me, pushing me forward with great force. I felt the effects immediately, my body whipping through the air like it was launched from a catapult and my arms feel like they just got smashed with a press. The balcony door was a few precious feet away. I landed in a roll and moved as quickly as I could, slipping my key out and reaching towards the handle.

By the time the door to my warehouse opened, Hock's men had shaken off the flashbang, but weren't expecting me to be further inside the building. As I stepped through the threshold I heard Hock yell out my position to his men. Then the door closed and it was just me and my equipment bag.

When the door opened again, the guards were clearly not expecting me in full armor to greet them. Especially a fresh prototype from the boys in R&D. I pulled out my pistol and called up some more power in my hands.

The fight was over in about ten seconds all told. Kasumi appeared from behind enemy lines and struck several of the guards, exacerbating their already considerable confusion. A biotic slam from me and several well placed phasic rounds through their shielded helmets was the cherry on top.

Hock was scrambling on the ground, baffled and rattled by what just happened. I simply picked him up and pinned him to a wall with one hand.

“What...are you?” He managed to choke out.

“Haven't you heard? I'm the Blue Bitch.”

It was on the trip back that I finally contacted Shepard about what had happened through a local station's private Extranet chamber.

“So what exactly happened to Hock?” Shepard replied, remaining stoic throughout the extravagant tale.

“Oh he's been arrested by Alliance officials. I kind of let slip I was undercover as part of an operation for a Spectre, mentioned your name and everything, and they took it as is.”

“But I didn't authorize his arrest.”

“I also wasn't lying. It was a favor for your latest recruit for the Omega-4 mission. Miss Kasumi Goto. Plus I think a few preservationists would love to get a hold of that Statue of Liberty head he has.”

Shepard shook his head in bewilderment at that last statement. “Alright, I'll speak with the Council and say you were working for me to deal with a possible weapons deal between Hock and Cerberus. Sound fair to you?”

“Well, reality's stranger than fiction...” I mumbled under my breath.

“Well between what you've provided for me and some of the... interesting company I've managed to convince to join me, I think we're just about ready to start that operation. We still need a way to protect ourselves from the Collector's tactics and a way to go through the relay unharmed. Hopefully Doctor Solus and our Engineering expert can come up with something.”

“Tali?”

“Was it really that obvious?”

“Come on, she's brilliant even by other quarian standards. If she wasn't on the team I'd vouch for her myself.”

Shepard smiled. “Speaking of which, you know there's still a place on the Normandy for you, Variza. I know you've been vocal about it but the door's still open.”

“Sorry Shepard, not my circus, not my monkeys. I'm too busy getting things bunkered down at home for you. But by all means good luck with your suicide mission.” I said with a laugh at the end.

When I returned to the shuttle, Kasumi was sitting in the corner, a visor over her face with the graybox attached to it, tears streaming down her face.

“Keiji-san...” she whispered under her breath, wiping away the tears.

“I'm sure he was a good man,” I said softly, sitting next to her, hand on her shoulder.

The visor slid away and Kasumi looked away, not wanting to show how puffy her eyes looked.

“He wants me to destroy it. That he found secrets so dangerous that every cutthroat in the galaxy will be after it. Something about Operation Ascension.... But it's all I have to remember him by...” She held the box close.

I pulled her close as the shuttle's auto-pilot returned us to Omega. The rest of the trip was in silence. It ended on a professional handshake and a thank you.

I've done all I can for Shepard's team, now it was all on them.


	22. Grudge of the Shadow Broker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the Shadow Broker trilogy.
> 
> Variza decides to confide in Jack her otherworldly nature, only to have a threat from the criminal underworld crush her attempts at solidarity.

“It's okay... breathe.” Sha'ira said calmly, holding my hands as they tensed up. So I did. In through the nose, counted to seven, then exhaled for an eight count. It was after the third deep breath I was finally able to relax.

“So now you know...” I replied, the words coming out more bitter than I wanted. My entire body released itself of tension as I closed my eyes, feeling only the warmth of her lap on the back of my head and her hand in mine, the sound cancellation of her pod making it feel as if there was only me and this other asari in the entire universe. Of course I wound up telling her everything. My nature as a Jumper, the stress of Shepard's mission, what Morinth had done to me, and my most recent brush with death with Kasumi.

“Believe me or not, that's up to you. But it's the truth.” I finally exhaled, breaking the silence that felt as thick as black smoke.

Sha'ira simply put a hand on my forehead. “Have you told anyone else?”

“Aside from Dr. Dren...just one other.” I hesitated to name Commander Shepard, but something tells me she knew already.

“Well, that explains a lot then.”

I looked up at her with an eyebrow raised.

“You are so closed off that no one is willing to fully trust you. You claim to be what you are but you act like it's something to be ashamed of.”

“Sha'ira, of all the fantastic things that happens in the galaxy, claiming to be a pan-dimensional traveler in an asari skinsuit still sounds like something that would put you in the psych ward.” I retorted.

“And why exactly are you so worried about being seen like that? From the way you talked about Jack, she managed to get her life around and make a living for herself despite having a past far more traumatic and harsh than yours.”

I slowly got up and crossed my arms. She had a point.

“The only reason why I kept it to myself is because I needed people to trust me, so that when I said I was here to help, they'd believe me.”

“And now you're the head of a major corporation leading the front in weapons development with a staff that clearly respects you and you've publicly been seen aiding the Alliance, the Council, and the Spectres.” She place a hand on my shoulder. “What exactly is keeping you from opening up now?”

My session with Sha'ira ended the same as before. With her reading my future, once again claiming it was uncertain and murky despite seeing nothing but the greatest of adversity. Whether or not this was due to me being a Jumper was a thought I tried not to entertain. I donned my quick disguise, complete with a face-concealing mask, and made my way out of the Citadel and made my way back to my shuttle via my Warehouse. After the attack by those vorcha agents on Omega and the Shadow Broker gunning for me with Morinth, I did my best not to stay in one place for long, much to the chagrin of the company's board of directors. I've been applying pressure to Cerberus with my weapon dealing, one of most dangerous information brokers in the galaxy wants my secrets, and for whatever reason, the Reapers were sending out resources of their own to tear me apart in addition to their mass human colony abduction through the Collectors.

Sha'ira was right. I needed some serious confidants and fast if I was going to survive.

So I asked my pilot to take me to Grissom Academy to check up on Jack.

On the surface, the space station that is the Academy is a prestigious place of higher learning for gifted intelligence. Math, Science, Liberal Arts. It's like Harvard or Cambridge in space. But it's also home to the Ascension Project, a dedicated program to help those with biotic power to hone their skills. Not exclusively a military program either. If someone was born with biotic power and just wanted to learn control, the doors were open if they knew the right people. Still feels weird knowing that someone as aggressive as Jack teaches there now.

After docking I told my pilot to stay with the ship and stepped in to the atrium. A security guard stopped me and asked what my business was. I simply told him I was here to see Jack and that I was an old friend, keeping my disguise up. To my delight, he accepted that and let me pass.

A few long hall ways littered with some teen and young adult students later and I made my way to the training yard...

… just in time to dodge someone being flung bodily at the wall. Human woman from the looks of it with short red hair. Before I could even check to see if she was okay, she simply got up, dusted herself off and declared, “That was awesome!” to the rest of the class.

And of course in the center of the yard was Jack, her arms crossed with a smirk on her face; probably because she was the one who chucked redhead across the room. Her hair was still growing out but was now in a decent ponytail, her outfit notably more conservative than her street tattoo tough girl appearance, I couldn't help but smile at how comfortable she looked in the role.

She saw me approach the class, “Alright, what exactly is so urgent that you couldn't wait for our training exercise to conclude?” she growled, her hands already glowing blue with biotic wrath.

I pulled off my disguise of wraps and contact lenses. “Can't an old friend show up out of nowhere and see how they're doing?”

“Variza!?” She yelled in surprise. “What the eff are you doing here!?”

I heard whispers among the students. “Variza? That Variza? The one who fought with Jack on Shepard's crew?”

“Wondering when exactly you started watching your language for one, and wanting to talk to you about something personal and important for two.” I snapped a glance to the students. It was a good mix of anxious excitement.

Jack turned to her students and made several quick gestures to them. They began breaking up into pairs and seemed to go through some basic drills. She turned to me and stuck a thumb over to a small room to my left.

The room was an unused classroom with windows looking into the yard. When I stepped in Jack was facing me, but was also clearly keeping an eye on the students in the yard.

“Alright blue, what's this about?” her tone was neutral, but her stare was piercing.

I cleared my throat and tried to speak. Then a lump got there. Dammit. “Well..I...remember when-”

“It's been close to a month since you and I last talked and I still haven't heard squat about the Reapers or what Shepard is up to, and you decide to show up looking like some weird homeless person crashing my class. So unless you got in bad with gangsters or whatever or you're about to let me in on some Reaper busting operation in the next two minutes I'm gonna chuck you out an airlock.”

My Omni-Tool started beeping with an incoming message. I sent it to voicemail.

“Well Jack. That's the thing. I haven't exactly been honest with you. You see, I've been doing some jobs for Shepard dealing with the human colony disappearances.”

Jack shot me a dirty look of betrayal.

“Oh come on, you've been doing covert ops for the Alliance on the side too, don't give me that.”

“Yeah, but every time those colonies are brought up the Alliance pulls rank and tells me to forget about it. Which means someone hasn't let me in on what Shepard's been doing.” She took two hostile steps towards me. “I thought we were friends, Variza.”

My Omni-Tool beeped again. I simply deactivated it in frustration. “We are, Jack. Which is exactly why this bullheaded act isn't working on me. You wanna know why I haven't told you? The night Shepard told me about the operation, an Ardat-Yakshi tried to assassinate me in my own home. I had to avoid any and all communications that might have given me away while going into the Terminus Systems to recruit a manic scientist and a master thief which involved escaping augmented death troopers and pulling off a major heist under the nose of an arms dealer and an unhinged human supremacist that clearly sees me and my weapons company as a giant black eye to 'his people.'

“So yes, Jack. After getting patched up, speaking to my therapist, covering my tracks and handling a bunch of crazies, I'm now finding the time to clue you in because I still respect you as a friend. So how about you stop foaming at the mouth about Reapers for ten seconds and let me say what I have to say?”

I didn't realize that I took some steps on Jack, calling her bluff. She was now leaning pack, practically sitting on the desk behind her, her expression pensive.

“Alright Variza, alright. Jesus.” she gasped as I slowly backed off.

Then my Omni-Tool activated on its own and began broadcasting audio.

“Variza T'Som. This is the Shadow Broker.” The voice modulated into an unnatural deep timbre.

“How in the-?” I began. I re-wired my Tool to stay off the Extranet, keeping it analog to avoid something like this. Then I found something on the bottom of the Tool. A small black disc attached to it, and by extension the bottom of my right forearm. It turned my blood into liquid nitrogen.

“As you may have noticed by now, one of my agents has managed to bug your Tool so we can have this conversation. You might be trying to be off the grid...but I have eyes everywhere.” I gulped nervously at the emphasis on that last phrase. “You managed to survive the assassin I sent after you, and for that you have a small modicum of my respect. And for that I shall give you a choice in how to handle my offer. You have three days to give up your secret weapon development project research to one of my agents on the asari world of Illium. Do this and I shall allow you to live as a figurehead for the company. You will live and I shall simply take a percentage of your annual earnings from your account. You try to remove that disc or refuse, and I shall simply buy the controlling share of the stocks through my intermediaries and take these secrets myself, voting you out and ending your life to cover my tracks. The choice is your Miss T'Som. The clock is ticking, and I will be watching.”

The silence following the message clicking off was so sudden you could hear a pin drop.

“Alright, what the fuck did you step into?” Jack blurted out.

“Remember that Ardat-Yakshi that almost killed me? She worked for him....”

“Sweet fucking Christ, Variza....”

The ride out of Grissom Academy went by in a haze. I had Jack fly, though I did have to talk her out of killing the pilot for possibly working for the Broker. It literally could have been anyone on the Citadel or Grissom Academy to tag my Tool and I didn't want to work on maybes if I was going to kill someone.

Other than that one altercation my mind was racing, trying to figure out how to stop this deal with the Shadow Broker. There was no way I could exploit a loophole, when someone with his kind of power delivers an ultimatum you have to be able to match him in case it goes wrong and I... can't. At the same time if the Broker got my weapon plans he could sell it to just about anyone, possibly even the Collectors as they've been known to make discrete deals for advanced technology on the fringes of the Milky Way – which would make my entire breakneck arms race against the Reapers pointless. So it looked like I only had one option....

I would have to find and stop the Shadow Broker himself.

Then I lost ten years off my asari lifespan realizing that I may have doomed myself already. The only way anyone was able to pin down the Shadow Broker's base of operations, a space station on some turbulent gas giant, was through a large collection of small but significant circumstances involving an info trafficker named Feron, and a certain information broker on Illium, including them fighting off attempts by the Collectors to abduct Commander Shepard's corpse six months after the Battle of the Citadel.

Except that Shepard never died. And that information broker as far as I know is too busy coordinating the construction of the Crucible Project. Which means Feron might as well be in another dimension as far as me being able to contact him. And even if I could remember what planet the Broker's base is on, the atmosphere is so violent any ship sent would be torn to shreds. Not to mention the issue of precise coordinates.

But Feron's the closest thing to a lead I have.

“Jack, we need to head to Illium.”

“Like hell we are, blue!” Jack snapped back from the cockpit.

“I'm not-” I stopped myself and looked at the tracker on my Omni-Tool. Was it bugged? Was he listening? I don't know, and I can't remove it to find out. I shook my head. “We need information. Illium is the info broker capital of the galaxy. And I have an idea as to who to talk to.”

“How?” She said sharply.

Crap. Think of something, smart guy!

“I have some contacts over there from the bean counters regarding long-term investments and...corporate synergy.” I muttered. Dammit Weird Al!

“Huh. Makes sense I guess.” Jack replied with an implicit shrug.

Smooth, real smooth.

Jack guided the shuttle to closest Mass Relay and we were on our way to the asari world with only a flimsy possible lead to ending one of the most dangerous forces in the galaxy.


	23. Trail to the Shadow Broker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the Shadow Broker Trilogy
> 
> Jack and Variza find a lead in the asari world of Illium, but the Broker's reach extends even there, complicating their investigation.

The asari world of Illium isn't exactly the kind of place you go to for a vacation. Due to the high intensity heat on the surface, many of the colonies are established in arcology skyscrapers to make it livable, so good luck relaxing and going to the beach. In fact, the planet's greater significance in the galaxy is as an entrepol between the lawless chaos of the Terminus Systems and the Asari Republics. It's also a place meant for asari elites, complete with palatial estates full of luxury and some of the best surveillance around. Their prime commerce is either biotic-oriented pharmaceuticals, or information brokering for high-end corporate maneuvering.

And Jack and I were showing up to look for a needle in a haystack.

It didn't go well.

Despite my pull as the head of a very young but ambitious weapons development company, I wasn't given the time of day. Other information brokers had waiting lines going as far back as twenty years and you needed a form of membership with them. Some just flat out didn't like my bullheaded short-term approach to business and saw me as a major financial liability. There was even one who threw in a barb that my choice of business dress was gaudy and uncoordinated. Ouch.

It was at a small cafe where we were grabbing a drink where we caught a lucky break.

“Do these girls ever not think their shit doesn't smell?” Jack spat, nursing some green fizzling soda.

“What do you expect? They think in terms of centuries and decades, not years and months. Playing the long game is their whole thing. Plus it makes them more demanding of their clientele and staff.” I mentioned, taking small sips from a cup of some local soup. Tastes like an especially peppery lobster bisque curiously enough.

“Oh yeah, sure I'll take the time aside to rack up fifteen different Masters degrees and get right to kissing your ass for money.” she rolled her eyes. A moment later though she drew her attention back to me. “I mean, no offense blue. You're not like these others. I-”

I waved my hand and gave a small smile, “Don't worry I know what you mean, Jack.” She smiled back and went back to her soft drink.

Now was my opportunity. I had to tell her the truth.

“Uhh Jack. There is something I have been meaning to tell you.” she turned to look at me, her expression curious with a mix of cold defense. “There has been something about me that I think you need to know.” My lips started to get dry. Dammit why is this getting so hard? Just tell her you're some interdimensional visitor from another world already rip the band-aid off! Tell the closest thing to a long-time friend this big bombshell that might fundamentally alter your relationship forever.

“You have a crush on me. Yeah, I noticed, blue. You aren't exactly subtle about it and I told you already, not interested.” Jack replied.

“That's not the thing!” I blurted out.

“I am actually-”

“Variza T'Som!” A third voice bellowed from across the cafe.

I turned towards the source of the shout, scrunched up in anger. Who the hell had the spine to interrupt this conversation?

A dark green asari apparently. My frustration dissipated immediately. She quickly sat down at our table, her face noticeably giddy.

“I never thought I'd see you again and officially thank you for what you did back on Feros!” she said, holding out a hand to me.

“Oh right, the Thorian. Shiala right?” I shook her hand lightly while trying to smile through gritted teeth.

“Yeah. Thank the goddess I bumped into you. ExoGeni has been making some interesting strides in their research after that incident, half of which wouldn't have been possible if you didn't save as many colonists as you could.”

“Still makes my skin crawl that that giant thing was mind-controlling people and cranked out clones of you to defend itself.” Jack replied, rubbing her arms nervously.

“Speaking of which, the uhhh,” I did a quick gesture pointing at Shiala's green skin.

“Oh right, aftereffect of that plant monster messing with me. I'm...oddly popular now because of it.” she mused, looking at her right hand wistfully.

“So, what exactly are you doing here now? Shouldn't you be busy with security or working on some R&D project or something?” I asked.

“Well that's the thing. I've been meaning to get in contact with Commander Shepard after things winded down from the battle of the Citadel and haven't been able to. I wanted a way to thank him and his crew for what they tried to do on Zhu's Hope, yet here are two members of his old crew right here.” Shiala explained.

Jack and I traded looks.

“Can you help us find a certain information trafficker?”

Shiala's contacts at ExoGeni paid off. Feron was currently living at a temporary penthouse in Nos Astra, Illium's capital city. Made plenty of sense since the place was full of surveillance to both cover his tracks and crib information for his employers. I made sure Jack violated some speeding laws getting us there, we already lost a day or so getting to Illium anyway.

After reaching the landing pad and suiting up with armor and weapons ready, concealed and with safeties on of course, we were introduced to a pretty grizzly sight. The doors were torn off their hinges with blaster fire, several plate glass windows shattered. The only light source being the bright neon signs of nearby buildings and the occasional shuttle lights casting dark shadows across the interior.

I turned to Jack. “I'll take point. This new armor design should be able to tank most of what an infiltrator might have on him.”

“Your funeral, blue.” she quipped, readying her pistol and watching my six.

I stepped through the threshold and noticed something about the windows. No shards on the floor; they were blown out from the inside. The living room was clear.

I motioned to Jack, “Look for signs of a struggle.”

She moved up and started scanning the area. I slowly continued to what appeared to be Feron's bedroom. Sheets thrown off and personal belongings scattered or broken. It was also where I saw a figure in the dark aggressively opening up a dresser drawer, desperately searching for something important.

“Don't move.” I spoke firmly, readying my pistol and taking a firing stance. The figure froze.

“Back away from the dresser and head towards me. Slowly.” The figure slowly complied. Hands up; actions slow and deliberate.

She then turned on her heel and quickly drew a pistol from a hip holster and fired several rounds. My shields resisted them and my armor caught several of the blows, all while I focused my pistol and disarmed my opponent with a single pull of the trigger. Four bangs, four flashes of the barrels, and the flying visage of the pistol through the air happened within roughly two seconds. I knew there was a reason why I installed recoil dampeners in the arm guards.

“Alright, gimme one good reason why I shouldn't put one in your skull right now?” I demanded, keeping my distance while focusing my gun on my would-be assailant's head.

The hotheaded warrior stepped into the neon light. She was an asari. Purple-skinned and wearing some pretty impressive dark blue armor.

“Asari captain Tela Vasir, Council's Special Operations Tactics and Reconnaissance” she replied.

“Blue, we have a bit of a problem.” Jack declared from a room adjacent.

“Oh I'm aware.” I muttered under my breath.

“I was sent here to investigate a disturbance. Shots being fired, furniture thrown out, signs of a struggle.” Tela replied. “Something that you're actively infringing upon.”

I smiled slightly. “So you were digging through Feron's unmentionables looking for evidence about a shooting?”

“Might have been a lover's quarrel. Never rule out any possibility.” She replied quickly.

“Seriously, blue, things just got complicated.” Jack projected again.

Yeah, it did.

“Well, at least you can kill two birds with one stone now, right Tela?” I replied, holding up my Omni-Tool.

Tela slowly smiled.

“Well, good to know you still have some common sense after all, Miss T'Som.”

“Yeah...I do.” Then I shot Tela in the face, her body falling over in a crumpled pile.

Just in time for Jack to show up looking utterly shocked.

“Variza, what the fuck!?” she yelled.

“You just killed a Spectre!” Another voice declared from nearby.

“She was the Shadow Broker's contact and was looking for information on Feron. Clearly that means he was on to something. Trust me, I know what I'm talking abo-” I stopped mid-sentence, the fact that there was now three people in the room finally registering.

I turned and saw Liara T'Soni, wearing a practical flexible white and blue suit of armor with long coat, holding a pistol to Jack's back.

“Goddess...you're making contact with the Shadow Broker as well?” Liara asked. “Wait, she was working for him? We were looking for Feron because he claimed to have a contact with a middleman for the Shadow Broker.”

“Check her Omni-Tool, chances are you'll find a blocked contact with the info you need.” I replied casually.

“Wait a minute... Variza?” Liara gasped in recognition, slowly releasing Jack from captivity.

“Yeah, it's me.” I said as I removed Tela's Omni-Tool. I then tossed the Tool to Jack.

“See what you can do with it, I'm gonna keep searching for signs of Feron.” I gestured to her.

Jack gave me a quick thumbs-up and began to tinker. Which left me and Liara alone...near a fresh corpse. It's weird how despite being in a new world in the somewhat distant future I somehow manage to find new levels of awkward situation.

“So...I guess the Crucible Project is coming along nicely?” I asked while searching between couch cushions.

“Technically it's a joint venture between the Alliance, the Turian Navy and representatives of the Quarian Flotilla Fleet, I'm just on hand as consultant. I've been actually trying to negotiate with some of the wealthy asari elite to assist in the funding of the project. The Hephaestus Initiative was just a stopgap after all if you know anything about quantitative easing.” She rattled off in a clinical tone.

“Wait, isn't that basically an economic nuclear button?” I replied to her last statement, looking back in surprise. She didn't seem to get it. “You know...basically make galactic credits worthless?”

“Well, the Council was so swayed by what you and Shepard pulled off at the Citadel they were willing to deal with something that devastating after they dealt with the Reapers.”

“Oh...well that's...practical of them.” I managed to choke out.

“Alright I got a big question.” Jack finally interjected, thank you you beautifully tactless tough girl, “how come I'm the one trying to crack a Spectre's Omni-Tool when there are literally two centuries-old blue women with way more experience than me sitting right here!?” She barked.

“Good point, Jack. Variza, you get to work on the Tool, the two of us will search the rest of Feron's place. Should be a pretty basic code break if she was planning on getting in contact with the Broker.” Liara mentioned. Jack chucked the Tool at me with a grin on her face.

“Yeah smart ass get to it.” she added.

“Yeah...just a...simple code break...” I muttered under my breath looking at the glowing orange tool of floating icons, bits of plastic, and nothing even remotely looking like a simple DOS screen.

Oh sweet cheese and crackers....

The next five minutes were beyond annoying. Tapping, swiping, poking and prodding all to no avail, all while Jack and Liara poured over Feron's penthouse. Then I got a terrible idea as I caught a glimpse of my own Omni-Tool in my peripheral vision.

I can't figure out how to crack Tela's Omni-Tool and dig into her contact info on the Broker, but I can rip off the tracker on my own Tool and goad the Broker into calling the Tool himself. Assuming that the tracker wasn't also keeping tabs on me and the others, which I am slow to believe since we haven't been utterly swarmed by his personal death squad the minute I put down Tela, it would be the perfect way to at least narrow down or even play personal psychology with the Broker and get information.

But it would also doom my company to his agenda and leave me with nothing before the Reapers show up. It was another longshot of a Hail Mary.

And it's the best idea I got.

“I think I might have cracked this guys, anything on your end?” I called out, my eyes darting back and forth between the Tools.

“Yeah, we found a vid chit hidden behind the monitor. Labeled as “Contingency,” so I think that's worth a watch.” Jack replied.

I took a deep breath. “Alright...I got a way to get some info, but you're not gonna like it.” I activated a keyboard app on Tela's Tool and adjusted the audio settings to my armor.

And with a thought of biotic power I crushed the tracker on my own Tool to scrap.

Within ten seconds, Tela's Omni-Tool sprang to life, the Shadow Broker's modulated growl coming from the speaker.

“Tela Vasir, it appears that Miss T'Som has chosen poorly. Send your forces to eliminate her immediately and bring her Omni-Tool to my base. I have already begun acquiring her company.”

I put up a hand to silence Liara and Jack and began typing into the Tool.

She is in the room with me, I'll handle it. Which rendezvous point should I use?

“My outpost on Hagalaz. I shall forward you our new coordinates for you to dock safely through the storm. I expect you soon.”

Then the Tool went silent.

“Liara, planet Hagalaz ring any bells to you?” I replied, cutting off the audio feedback.

“It's a garden world in the Sowlio system I think.” Liara mentions.

“Good, some coordinates are gonna pop up soon, copy them and we got ourselves a destination.” I said with a smile, tossing her the orange glowing device.

“Alright,” Liara commented with a skeptical eyebrow raised. There was a brief moment of silence, “And what about the red alert message saying “Dead Switch Activated, Kill on Sight?”

I didn't even have time to declare “oh shit” before the bullets and rockets started flying.


	24. End of the Shadow Broker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack, Variza, and Liara propel themselves to the Shadow Broker's hideout. But the criminal mastermind reveals their darkest skeletons deep within their closets.

The shuttle swerved, ducked and weaved through the arcology towers of Thessia before taking a plunge into the hostile heat below, environmental shields kicking on to prevent us from being boiled alive. Liara and I were all but taped to the interior by crash webbing, both of us bracing for Jack's evasive piloting while recovering from the initial shellshock.

“You're trying to tell me you let your company get bought up by the Broker just to get to him!?” Liara yelled over the muffled explosions and gunfire. “What exactly were you going to do then!? Were you going to storm the fortress and kill him yourself!?”

“No!” I replied defensively. I couldn't exactly meet her gaze with the follow-up though. “The plan was to have us storm the fortress and kill him ourselves.”

“That's much better!?”

“Between the geth, the Thorian, Saren and the multiple mercenaries we've taken care of I'd think we have it under control!”

The shuttle shook and rattled as the door opposite us quickly dented in. Jack's swearing could be heard from the cockpit.

“Variza, you're a century older than me and you're acting like some hotheaded infant barely in their forties!”

Another loud bang rang out and the entire shuttle rattled violently, causing us to jerk forward sharply. I swear with a little more pressure my eyes would have popped out.

“Dammit Variza! Does this ship have any weapons at all!?” Jack demanded!

“It's a Kodiak shuttle, Jack! It's basically a metal box with engines!” I shouted back.

Jack screamed incoherently in response. A beat later she spoke up. “I think I can lose them! Hang on!”

The shuttle kicked into a new gear and shot forward, practically pinning Liara and me to our seats. I twitched in pain from the warped parts of my blasted armor needling parts of me. It was designed to be highly resistant against bullets and small arms, not artillery. If it wasn't for the fact that the targets of those rockets were three skilled biotic users, we'd be paste right now. It was a small consolation.

Still I really need to settle on names for these prototypes.

Unfortunately, any attempts to start workshopping were cut off by the ship sharply going ninety degrees up. Blood rushed and my insides were getting ready to come up in protest.

“By the Goddess, what exactly are you doing up there?” Liara projected over the high-pitched screech of the engines.

“Lost them in foliage! Gonna try to breach the atmosphere!”

“A mad dash for a Mass Relay? Do you have any idea how reckless that is?” Liara continued. “It would be more prudent if we used the foliage as cover, cut our engines then waited them out.”

“Too late. We're already doing it!”

Several large bangs shook the back of the ship. We were then hit with at least several different flavors of aileron rolls, jukes, and dives as Jack tried to outpace the gunfire aimed at our precious engines. Note to self, buying a shuttle from Omega means they cut corners when it comes to overall safety regulations like personal gravity emitters.

“Am I the only one on this ship who thinks more than ten seconds ahead!?” Liara finally screamed in pure exasperation.

“I'm almost to the exosphere!” Jack yelled back. “If we turn back now we're sitting ducks!”

“Go for it Jack!” I yelled back. “Now or nev-reeecchh!!”

Ralph called. He had a lot to say. Then the ship turned and tilted. Ralph had something to say to Liara too. She didn't like it.

“Mass Relay in sight. Looks like they broke off! Probably to get aid from a larger class cruiser. Not gonna chance it though. Making the jump now to the Sowlio system!”

After twenty seconds of blood-chilling silence, we all heard the low whoosh of a mass relay launching our ship beyond light speed through the cosmos. I let out a sigh of relief, then turned to a vomit-covered Liara and offered a pensive apology. She looked like a single mother that got handed the short end of the straw with two newborns, begging for an excuse to go on a rampage.

I decided to undo my crash webbing and search the footlocker for something to clean up the mess. The closest thing I could find were some blankets for long distance trips and a small bottle of mouthwash for hygiene. I used it to cover up the smell and clean up the sick as best as I could, though I let Liara handle personal clean-up herself. I had to let her have some dignity, otherwise she'd probably try to strangle me.

After about five minutes of clean-up, Jack joined us, the room now smelling less like vomit and more like mouthwash and vomit. “Alright, so now what are we gonna do?”

“Head to Hagalaz, storm the Shadow Broker's fortress, put a bullet in his head.” I replied while gingerly removing my armor, the broken shreds of it finally proving too much to tolerate.

“Alright I'm putting an absolute hold on anything Variza proposes as a plan because that is not a plan, those are goals.” Liara snarled through gritted teeth. “You have a ship that is barely being held together by utterly reckless piloting-”

“Hey! We're alive aren't we!?” Jack interjected.”

“- along with untold damage to the hull and engines,” Liara continued undaunted, “ Damaged bordering on useless armor, and there is the fact that we would undoubtedly be outgunned and outnumbered the minute we land and the ship ID doesn't match Tela Vasir's.”

“... plus there's a chance that when Tela's dead trigger went off it sent a signal back to the Broker, letting him know that something was up.” I added.

Liara nodded in agreement. “One way or another, he's expecting us.”

I let out a sigh. I can't let the Broker squander away all the weaponry at T'Som Manufacturing. And if he wasn't waiting at his base with an entire army ready, chances are he's getting ready to move shop to another secret facility in the galaxy where I wouldn't be able to find him.  
Liara was right, I needed help. And I needed a plan.

So I pulled up my Omni-Tool and contacted Admiral Hackett, stepping away from Liara and Jack as the two of them started arguing over our predicament. Practically speaking I couldn't get a full dialogue with the guy, that would require a dedicated computer terminal with Extranet access, and that kind of stuff is usually only found on larger more advanced spaceships. But a quick message with a small priority tagline should be enough for him to forward an SOS to Shepard along with where we'd be after finishing our relay jump. It was a decent back-up to have in a worst case scenario.

After sending the message off I sat back in a seat and started rubbing my temples, Liara and Jack's dialogue a mere dull roar a mile away. I was honestly starting to think about what I could do if the worst case scenario happened. The absolute worst case scenario when the life-exterminating machines arrived. The quickest most efficient plan was start pulling as much funds as possible, set up a bunker on some remote world in the Terminus Systems and wait out the Reaper extermination, pray that my decade is up before they find me.

But I knew that was impossible. Their widespread ultrasonic Indoctrination would slowly break away at my sanity, make me slowly believe dying by them is the right thing to do; a big blue lamb to the cosmic slaughter. It's also very clear that whatever the heck happened due to me popping up in this universe, they've become a lot more aggressive and devious with forceful cybernetic enthrallment.

Better to die fighting than hiding I suppose. 

I got up and joined Jack and Liara. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve, the impending mecha-cthulhus throwing me back into overdrive.

“I sent out a message to Shepard. If he's nearby I'm going to see if I can get his help, take full advantage of the Normandy's stealth system.”

“You do realize that's a complete shot in the dark, blue?”  
“Yeah, I do.” I exhaled.  
“What about that video chit from Feron's place?” Liara spoke up.

“Do you still have Tela's Omni-Tool?”

Liara held up the apparatus.

I flat out cheered, pumping my fist, “Jackpot!”

“Excuse me?”

“Hand me the chit and her Tool. If I pull this off I might be able to give us a shot at the Broker's base, just the three of us.” I replied. Jack flashed me a sinister smile, Liara stared at me like I started speaking Latin backwards.

I slipped Tela's Tool on and slipped Feron's video chit inside. I then made my first risk by linking my biometric data to the Tool to de-activate Tela's dead switch. The red beeping light on it shut off. Thank god DNA ID is weirdly uncommon in this galaxy. I then let the video play. A holo display popped up, revealing a shakey first-person view of some green scaled humanoid hands fiddling around before settling into the image of a drell. Black, featureless eyes scanned over the camera, his expression turning resolute once it was clear the device was recording. He began to speak....

And then I shut the clip off.

“What are you doing?” Liara interjected.

“Had to be sure it was genuine, but had to ensure nobody else knows the vid's secrets yet.” I smiled.

Liara's eyes widened in realization. “You're actually going to masquerade as Tela and get us into the base that way?”

“Delivering Feron's crucial information to the Broker while also declaring the death of Variza T'Som, but only after performing a fake-out death to throw off her bruiser biotic partner.” I gestured to Jack at the last comment.

“You do realize that will fall apart the minute Illium's authorities find her body right? And that Illium is basically covered in cameras all the time?” Liara questioned.

“Sweetheart, when it comes to lies, context is everything.” I started opening the Tool's communication and re-opened the text conversation with the Shadow Broker and started typing. "Tela may have been a Spectre, but she was no stranger to corruption or going dark when need be. It wouldn't be completely unheard of to switch out some bodies at the morgue and stage an entire thrilling escape to slander my name post mortem. Just have to make sure the lie is just big enough for the big guy to fill in the blanks himself."

Liara actually smiled in respect to my proposal. "Behavioral psychology. I'm impressed."

“Sweetheart? What you some cowboy now?” Jack quipped.

“J-J-Just get ready to land once we drop out of FTL!”My face flashed purple in embarrassment. I turned my back to them and typed faster.

The planet Hagalaz isn't exactly a planet you casually make plans for. A garden world in the Hourglass Nebula known for being a planet of two extremes at all times. Aside from the local flora, nothing can sustain the constant shift from boiling heat and bone-shattering cold. But the storms that rage across the planet due to those disparate changes in weather is what makes the Broker's base here so fascinating. The station is constantly riding the storms, collecting the lightning discharged in the clouds in order to power and sustain the station while also using it as natural camo and defense. If it wasn't for the coordinates the Broker sent to Tela's Tool, we never would have found the place.

As expected, the landing pad was expecting us, complete with armed guards. I sent out the ID and codes the Broker forwarded as Jack started landing procedure. Our borrowed time hadn't run out yet....

“Alright, phase one of Operation Tee Kay Four-Two-One is go.” I said, taking off my helmet and turning my back to the shuttle doors as they slid open. “Jack, Liara, you know what to do....”

Sometimes the best tricks are the simplest ones.

The three of us entered the base, our steps quick and precise, our stolen armor a bit tight in certain spots, the doors wide open for us.

“Goddess this is crazy. If they spot us we're all gonna end up dead.” Liara muttered under her breath.  
“Oh don't get your panties in a bunch, princess. Variza knows what she's doing.” Jack replied.  
“Does anyone know how to get the map to this base from this terminal?” I asked. Jack facepalmed.

After about five minutes of fiddling we continued our way through the facility. A bona fide labyrinth of data banks, energy storage units for all the lightning outside, and makeshift barracks for the Broker's personal mercenary squad. We doubled our pace to the Broker's main room, the invisible seconds ticking by before he either called my bluff as Tela or the guards put two and two together.

The bodyguard was a krogan who asked us for clearance codes, citing that security was going up since the guys outside discovered what happened to the poor saps we robbed and left knocked out back at the ship; our one flavor of time was up. Jack and I gave our password by slamming the krogan into a lightning pod with our collective telekinetic power. There were enough gigajoules packed in there to turn him to ash. Liara then began working on opening the door. It would have worked a lot better if we got the datapad off the krogan before we immolated him. Either way, by the time the doors opened, the hallway behind was beginning to fill with armored mercs set to kill.

We slipped inside and Liara braced the door behind us, smashing the control console and beginning to warp the metal of the door with her biotic strength, bracing it against a breach team.

The room was large and circular, a window looking out to the raging swirling chaos that was the perpetual storm dominating the entire right wall. The left, a collection of large pipe-sized wires pumping power to another large collection of data banks. In the middle, a dull silver light illuminated the metal floor, coming from a large storage vat on the ceiling coursing with raw power.

And in the very back was the Shadow Broker. A large intimidating silhouette of something large, tall, and possibly horned, the only light there coming from several holo displays.

Jack and I aimed our pistols at his head and fired several rounds, a personal biotic shield hummed online to block several shots, the phasic rounds from my gun passing through and...more or less annoying him. Either way, he looked up and finally gave us his undivided attention.

“Miss T'Som,” his voice was a deep booming bass, “perhaps you should take some advice from your people...” He slowly stood up. He was at least fifteen feet tall, looking like he could eat a krogan and still be full, “...and think about your future.”

“Blue, what the hell is that thing? Where is the Shadow Broker?” Jack seethed, clearly trying to drown out her fear with bluster.

“That is the Shadow Broker. Were you expecting some spindly scrawny bookworm with a god complex?” I maintained my stance and kept my pistol level, even while my legs threatened to quake like jelly.

The Broker growled in disgust at my leap of logic, clearly wanting to relish in the terror of the unknown. Still, he continued forward, his steps rumbling throughout the room. I even heard Liara gasp “goddess” under her breath as she turned back from her bracing the door.

“Let's see who thought it wise to enter into my domain. An insignificant asari scientist out of her depth, trying to bring the galaxy together for a science project. A reformed criminal turned Alliance black ops agent who thinks she has a chance at being more than the terrible past she was saddled with.”

“Hey fuck you!” Jack yelled.

“Who despite doing everything possible to destroy her history, blowing up her old home on Pragia, blowing up Cerberus facilities all across the Milky Way, still desperately craves anything that makes her feel human again. Even if it's something as simple as her real name....”

“I'm serious! I will rip you to fucking pieces!” She was practically foaming at the mouth and I could feel her summoning up a lot of raw biotic might, her hands shaking in a mix of anger and fear.

“Then...there's you.” the Broker pointed a large leathery finger at me, it highlighted partially by the lightning battery above, his steps getting ever closer.

“The asari with no past. No history at all. Yet winds up center in almost pre-cognitive coincidences. Your attempted assassination of Saren long before he was declared rogue by the Council. The completely unfounded discovery of advanced weaponry you used as a base for a weapons company. A weapons company you have deliberately not built to last by the way it's been burning through resources and being selective about its clientele just enough to keep the lights on.”

“Tell me something I don't know, you overgrown sack of crap.” I balled up my fist with biotic strength as well, keeping my pistol steady with one hand. Or at least trying to, it was shaking like hell.

The Broker chuckled and motioned towards one of his monitors. And some audio played. It was from my conversation with Jump on Omega...he had spies recording it. I could feel Jack and Liara looking at me in disbelief after hearing my own angry ravings about wishing to have a man's body again, my frustrations with attracting the Male (Female? Anything With a Mind and Pulse?) Gaze and corporate boot licking, and declaring that the whole T'Som persona was an act. That I was only here to stop the Reapers.

There was even videos of me in my penthouse from the inside, somehow. Spliced together footage of me either lazing on a couch or relaxing in an herbal bath repeating phrases like "screw you Jump" or "Come on, just a few more years."

“Blue...what the hell have you been keeping from us?”

“A question I'm not the only interested in having answered....” the Broker finally stepped into the light. He was large, tall and wide respectively, wearing a suit of armor that looked more like repurposed ship plating than standard armor. Also being carried lazily by one of his massive arms was an assault rifle. Actually calling it an assault rifle would be like a saber a toothpick, it was more like an assault canon from a scout class ship jerryrigged together for personal use.  
“I had a simple deal with the Collectors for your precious head, Miss T'Som. Someone like you has been an unbearable thorn in my side for too long, and they were willing to work with me. Either I hand you to them dead or alive, preferably alive, and I get left alone. Your company and its assets for...insurance.  
“Since you've made it this far I offer you a choice. Lay down your arms right now, and I will allow your friends to leave, and allow you to live before I deliver you to the Collectors. Refuse, and I will take great pleasure in scrubbing your entrails out of my quarters within two minutes.” In his right arm, a shield formed out of holographic light. He then held it front of him with the barrel of the rifle sticking out like a Spartan phalanx.

“Variza, I mean...whoever you are. Maybe we should think this through. We can call Shepard, we can stage a rescue we can...” whatever Jack was about to say was forgotten as the Broker took two more steps toward her. The power coursing through her fists vanished in disbelief of what she was seeing.

“Listen to Jack!” Liara yelled. “You throw this away and you'll doom us all for nothing.” She slowly approached Jack, clearly getting ready to make a sprint for the exit.

“Sorry, already had this argument in my mind on the way over here. And I say no.”

The Broker snarled and stepped forward, aiming his rifle right at me.

“Second offer. Won't happen again.” He growled.

I took a deep breath and stared him dead in the face.

“Do you really think the Collectors will just let you go? You're a yahg. Your entire race are a bunch of brutes with less sense than the Krogans, hell your first reaction to being invited into Citadel space was attack the delegation. You're beyond a shadow of a doubt a major glitch in their system. They would love to just snuff out. Another piece of worthless flesh to be stomped out by the Reapers. Hell, the only reason why you're even useful to them at all is because they want me. Which means I hold all the cards here.”

“Variza!!” Liara and Jack yelled in unison.

“So let me give you a counter-offer Mister I Thought Of Everything. Release anyone you've captured in an attempt to leverage info on me. You let us go. And when Shepard and I stop the Collectors and the Reapers... we'll let you live. Or you can try to kill us and see how long the Collectors are willing to allow an oversized monguloid like yourself survive when the purge happens. And trust me on this, you want to take the former, not that you would know a good deal from a bad one you overly pampered, entitled, man-baby!”

The Broker roared, its bellow rattling throughout the facility. He disbanded the shield, dropped his rifle and came charging straight at me... right under the lightning battery.

I unleashed every ounce of biotic power I had in me and started pushing back against the yahg, my hand outstretched pouring wave upon wave of dark power into a continuous push. It wasn't slowing him down at all. I then aimed my pistol at the lightning contained above him and fired like mad, using the power already flowing from my hand to push me away from the Broker instead of the other way around, moving me away from the incoming pain train.

After several shots the containment pod breached and large arcs of white light spiraled out of control, showering the Broker in raw electric fury. His roars quickly turned to pure anguish.

“Jack! Liara! Hit him with everything you got!” I yelled over the deafening booms and crackles of the arc storm ripping through thick yahg flesh.

Jack didn't hesitate, she was practically begging for a chance to cut loose. She threw out her hands in furious determination, and more biotic power poured on him. If the pain wasn't keeping him in place, two adepts pinning him to the ground just might.

Then Liara joined in, adding her strength as well. Three powerful tethers of mass effect fields pinning this brute down as he slowly gets vaporized....

Then the safety kicked on the device, an insulated panel covered the burst pod, the lights and displays flickering off then on again signaling a switch to back-up power. The Broker got up from one knee, his body charred and smoked but still very much alive.

He turned to collect his Liefeld-esque assault rifle...only to see Jack already there. Propping up the entire barrel on her shoulders to tilt the thing upwards towards the Broker's midsection, her body coursing with biotic energy in an attempt to disperse the ungodly recoil. She must have broke off the connection once the unit repaired itself.

She screamed as the rifle's barrel started to wind up, it was then quickly drowned out the ear-shattering rapid fire of the rifle cutting through his flesh. If it was affecting him, he didn't show it as he charged at Jack like a bull.

“Liara go low!” I bellowed out as I summoned dark energy into my right arm and broke into a dead sprint.

“What!?”

“Aim for his legs!” I was about halfway to intercepting his assault on Jack.

“Got it!” And with a thought Liara threw a powerful wave of power, cutting through the air in front of me in dark blue waves as it struck the back of the Broker's right leg, causing him to bodily fall to the floor, completely hopeless against Jack's improvised artillery strike. Then the barrel overheated and started to wind down, Jack screamed in protest from the heat cooking her shoulder.

A beat later, I ran, using the Broker's knee as a step up to give him a big mass effect uppercut. It knocked him to the ground and blasted all the plating off the right arm. There was also the all too familiar heat of a pulled muscle in the forearm from overtaxation. But what else was new with me?

Before the Broker could start getting his bearings again. I gestured to Liara and Jack while holding out some grenades that were on the armor belt. They all detached several as well.

“One potato, two potato, three potato, let 'em fly!” I yelled while chucking my payload at the big lug.

One, two, three large bangs filled the room, all aimed at the thing's face. The floor was quickly covered in blast marks and streaks of orange blood. Then silence....

I kept my pistol trained on his face. Liara and Jack followed suit.

“Is he dead?” Liara belted out, her voice shakey.

Jack walked over to him and unloaded her entire clip into his head. Spraying more blood everywhere. She then callously ejected her clip.

“Well, he is now.”

Then the Broker screamed in bloodcurdling fury and grabbed her in his hand. He started to squeeze hard, Jack's armor cracking like peppermint.

“Jack!” Liara screamed.

My body moving on its own, I dove towards Jack, propelling my body forward like a missile, my hand reaching out to the insular plate on the lightning pod at the same time. And with a thought and a twist, I corkscrewed mid-air, pulling off the plate with what little strength I had left. The arcs of energy struck down renewed, the currents forcing the Broker's hand open on biomechanical reflex, just in time for me to tackle Jack out of the rest of the blast. But not before some of the electricity cooked me, the current causing my limbs to spasm and jerk about. If it weren't for the insulation given by the security armor, it probably would have stopped my heart.

We collapsed in a crumpled heap while the Broker let out his death rattle, the unleashed lightning finally finishing the job reducing him to a large blast mark on the ground, the only sound left filling the chamber was the crackling of the breached battery and the groan of the station beginning to lose its vital systems. Liara quickly began using her telekinesis to re-attach the plate while Jack and I slowly climbed off of each other.

I then heard muffled voices on the opposite side of the braced door. “Screw it, let's just cut through it!”

Time was up. Liara was busy fixing the generator I just messed up. Jack is most likely in traction from the Broker's kung-fu grip, or my desperate body tackle. And I only got a messed up arm.

I dashed to the monitors the Broker was looking over before we barged in. Scanning over the multiple screens I finally found the settings for base-wide announcements, and a voice modulator. The same one he used to mask his voice before. I turned it on and spoke.

“This is the Shadow Broker. The intruders have been dealt with. You may all return to your posts. Any defiance of this order and you will be ejected from this base. Attention everyone on Engineering decks I expect a full status report on all systems within five minutes. If so much as two percent of my servers have been corrupted, there will be consequences.”

I remained silent and muted the mic. I finally heard a dismissive “well, serves them right the crazies” from the other side of the door. I let out a sigh of relief.

Finally, it was over. Now I just needed to figure out how to transfer his ownership of my company back over to me and my trustees, invite Shepard over to let him have his pick of this treasure trove, and just relax.

Then I heard another thermal clip being slotted into a pistol as Liara loomed over me.

“Alright...I think you owe both of us a major explanation. Right now. Whoever you are.”


	25. Keys To The Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Shadow Broker gone, Variza finally confesses to Jack and Liara. But now, the group had access to the Broker's wealth and connections....

“You cannot be serious.” Liara exhaled, loosening her grip on the pistol she had pressed into my forehead.  
“Yeah, well it's the truth.” I responded. “Sidebar, can you stop pointing that thing dead center on my forehead? I think I'm getting a bit cross-eyed.” I shut my eyes, trying not to think about what I just said.  
Her grip tightened. “How in the world are you able to be so casual about this?”  
“Liara I served with Commander freaking Shepard. Every other mission he took us on was suicidal. It might also be the adrenaline talking from us surviving a yahg. You know, six of one, half dozen of the other.” I heard her seethe through her teeth. “If it makes you feel any better once this is over I'm gonna have a spa day and just stay inside a hotel doing nothing. It won't get rid of all the stress, but it'll be a start.”  
She looked like she was about to yell, but Liara ultimately bit her tongue. After a beat of silence she gave up holding me at gunpoint and returned to the Broker's chair, pouring over his files.

“Calm down, doc. At least you can still move.” Jack called in the distance from a makeshift gurney, waiting for proper medical treatment. Liara insisted; better safe than sorry.  
“If it's any consolation Jack, this is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about back at Grissom Academy. You know before...all this happened.” I called back. Then after a beat of self-awareness I got up and closed the distance.

“That's what you wanted to tell me? That you weren't actually an asari but some guy from the early twenty-first century on some sort of interdimensional roadtrip? Variza I...is your name even Variza!?”  
“You can keep calling me that if you like.”  
“I'd rather call you asshole!” Jack screamed, then choked in pain.  
“You might want to refrain from yelling, might knock something loose.” I replied softly.  
“Alright then smartass, then how about you answer me some questions if you're really who you say you are.”  
“Well, I'm all ears. Not much we can do until the security outside clocks out of their shift. Suspicions and all that.” Jack stared daggers at me. Even with possible spinal damage, she could kill me with her mind. I slowly sat down next to her, legs crossed, resting my aching right arm in my lap, the pain now reduced to a dull throbbing.

“If, and I'm not saying it's true, you really came from a world where everything that ever happened to us was from a bunch of video games, why didn't you just kill anyone who would be a problem in the future and stop the Reapers before they became a threat?”  
“Jack, that is what I've been doing. What we literally just did was thanks in part to nondiegetic information.”  
“Smaller words!”  
“Stuff I only know from sources not available to anyone else in this universe. The plan was to assassinate Saren years before Shepard would get involved. Then I was going to make my way towards the leadership of Cerberus and take them out. Then get the resources needed to uncover the Prothean artifacts on Ilos and Mars to get a headstart on the invasion half a decade in advance.”  
Jack snorted. “Way to go little miss high and mighty.”

“Jack, I showed up in this world with a small case of deadly weapons and a crapload of cash. Assassination was the only avenue I had. I had no political pull or military allies to call on, so I'd be written off as a lunatic if I just ran around saying ancient machines were gonna kill us all. Exactly like what you are doing right now.”  
She looked away at that comment. “So why haven't you been able to predict everything exactly?”

“Multiverse theory.” Liara interjected.

I traded looks with Liara. “I was going to go with the Butterfly Effect but...that's usually more applicable to time travel.”

“But it also can be applied here.” she responded, flipping through the Broker's files. Her eyes lit up, probably found something important.

After thinking over it for a moment, she was right. “Because the games were RPGs, my experience was one of multiple variations. Shepard is a woman, Shepard is a complete asshole. You and him are together. Liara and him are together. Civilizations live and die. Some news reporter on the Citadel gets punched in the face for asking too many questions. The list goes on and on.”  
“What the...why did you bring up relationships so quickly?” She growled.  
“It's a... side mission in the series.” I looked away, embarrassed at how it came out.  
“Well that doesn't sound creepy at all.” Jack sneered, her sarcasm thick as concrete.  
“The point is what I played and what is actually happening right now is so vastly different because of choices big and small. Because of that I only have a rough idea as to what is currently going on right now in the galaxy.” I didn't realize my fists were balled up in rage until the pain in my arm reached me.  
I decided to get up and look outside at the churning storm, choosing my next words carefully after taking some deep breaths.  
“I know that the Collectors are abducting human colonies but I don't know exactly when and where. I know what they're doing with them and that Shepard's mission to assault their base through the Omega-4 relay is integral to stopping them, but finding the right people and tools to make sure they come back alive is volatile at best. I know that Cerberus will get it in their heads to try to control and manipulate the Reapers in a bid for galactic supremacy, but because of what I have done to this timeline they might as well be unknowns to me. And because of just how dense and detailed the entire Milky Way is and how those games took up hundreds of hours of my time and were completed years ago I cannot actively remember every single detail like Feron or the Crucible blueprint's locations.  
“That has been the definition of my time here. I know exactly what has to happen if we have any chance of surviving, and I've been struggling like a drowning man in a flood to get it all together because I'm just some no one.”

Silence followed. It was only after I felt my protesting voice box form a lump in my throat did I realize how loudly I had yelled those final words.

Jack finally broke the silence. “This Jump sounds like a real bitch to do all of this to you.”

My hands were shaking. I punched the display window in response. I'll have time to break down when I'm dead.

“It's part of her game. Like I said, you choose some tools, get some abilities, then you get ten years.”

“You seriously chose to be an asari? Now I know you have to be crazy.”

I chose to ignore her barb. “What did you think was wrong with me? That I had a terminal disease or something?”  
“Well after seeing that footage of you muttering how many years you had left, yes.” she chuckled. “I mean all the reckless risks, the suicide missions, you having like no patience at all.”  
“The fact that I kept sending out Christmas cards to the Normandy crew with overly sentimental shmultz like “Hold On Tight To Those You Care About?” I interrupted.  
“Pffff,” Jack suppressed a chuckle. “You actually wrote those? I thought it was one of those generic office things that get sent out for diversity's sake.”  
“After all we've been through...you seriously thought it was just lip service? It was always Christmas. Not Honor to Kalahira or the turian spirits or the asari goddess.” I couldn't help but smile. “How thick can you get?”  
“How much of a bleeding heart can you be!?” Jack tried to snap back, but her face was also straining against something. It finally came out as laughter. And like a dam breaking, I was laughing too.

It was only after Jack started coughing in pain that I managed to reel myself in.

“Well...when you spell it out like that it does make some sense.” She finally exhaled. “So where did the name come from?”

“It was a character I made for a...tabletop RPG. She was an enforcer for Fist back on the Citadel and suffered from an addiction to red dust. It was a one-off campaign.” I scratched my neck nervously. “It was the first name that came to mind.”  
“Ha, like Fist could afford asari muscle.” Jack sneered.  
“It was a spitball. Not one of my better creations.”  
“Jack...she's telling the truth.” Liara spoke up. Her expression aghast.

A few moments later a holo display appeared in front of us; Liara was considerate enough to put one to Jack's level. It was a playlist of vids from the Broker's private folders. He had his own dedicated obsession file on me along with copious amounts of wild speculation in text. The first vid was the shuttle I was on en route to the Citadel four years ago. One moment, empty cabin; the next I was there with my weapons locker freaking out over my new asari body. In a separate tab was the ship's manifest, the name I would eventually give to C-Sec customs appeared there the instant I arrived.  
The next vid was back on Noveria; me with Shepard's crew against Benezia's asari commandos. Liara saw firsthand what had became of her mother. She looked like she was about to tear up when she heard my last words to Benezia was that her daughter loved her very much before pulling the trigger.

There were a few brief clips of my sessions with Sha'ira and Dr. Dren, but there was no audio. Thank goodness for the consult's sensory pods. But my body language and actions spoke greater volumes about the stress I was under than any throwaway conversation.

The vid after that was Morinth's attempt on my life, I got some judgmental looks from Liara and Jack when it came to how it started, and how I managed to break hold of her mental domination. It also gave me a moment to appreciate the wonders a military regiment and good diet leads to great muscle definition. I don't exactly like looking in the mirror but I did appreciate how my figure now resembles more of an Olympic strongwoman or a marathon runner now.

Then there was the footage of my rant with Jump. Just like before, she didn't show up in the video, but there was a secondary feed showing the hallway outside: the door to my room. In comes Garrus on camera two, through the door, in comes Garrus on camera one. He talks me down, doesn't see Jump on the bed, leaves camera one then two. Then the Warehouse key going into the door. The door opening to a column of light; door on camera two stays closed. And silhouetted in the light was...Jump? There for a few brief seconds then gone. Liara looked like she saw a ghost.

The last shown was some very brief footage from Donavan Hock's estate. Lot of mingling, talking, my interaction with Hock and Harper. No footage of the bathrooms, thank god, followed by the vault breach. Chaos in the party room, Variza in a dress. Flashbang goes off, vision clears, Variza in power armor.

The multiple text files didn't come anywhere close to the truth. Everything from experimental teleportation technology using the same quantum entanglement principles as QEC communication to portable mass relay technology was speculated when it came to my arrival and how my Warehouse worked. All were written off as impossible or technologically unfeasible. A side effect was a lot of highly classified projects from every single Council race was unearthed and poured over extensively by the Broker's networks. Anything and everything related to transportation and weapons development was bugged.

“Goddess... you really aren't from this world.” Liara breathed.

“Yeah. Looks like the secret is out...” My eyes lingered on the R&D in the Broker's obsession file. “in more ways than one.” My heart began pounding with excitement.

“Variza, what are you doing?” Liara demanded as I moved next to her chair and got a better look at the projects. Seeing what principles they acted upon, how resource intensive they were.

And how they could help my guys at my own personal R&D wing.

“Liara, I have a proposition for you.” I said, grinning ear to ear. “You have plenty of experience as an information broker?”

“Not as much as I like but yes.”

“And while it's not as reliable as it was before, I do remember a few key things that would be integral to our survival and to Shepard's future missions. Project names, persons of interest, et cetera.”

“Are you proposing that-”

“Yep. The Shadow Broker is dead.” I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Long live the Shadow Broker.”

“Why, that would mean we would be working together constantly. On this station. Forwarding information to Shepard and the Alliance,”

“He uses his Spectre status to cut through the bureaucracy,”

“and we get a hold of it so we can use it.” Liara beamed.

“This could be just what we need to put an end to the Collectors and keep Cerberus in check” I let out a cheer, a triumphant “finally!” bellowing out of my gut. “After four long years in this galaxy I can really start derailing some shit!”

“By the Goddess, we could even use these resources to further construction of the Crucible and lend resources to your company's R&D to help the war effort. What is the earth saying? We've hit the jackpot?”  
“Yes!”  
That got a wide toothy smile from her. By asari standards she might as well have jumped up on the console and started singing a soulful rendition of Queen's We Are The Champions. I'll take it as a win.

“Oh yeah that's great, call me when the sleepovers start, but what about me and my back!?” Jack yelled!

The sealed doors then blew off their hinges and a group of armed soldiers barged in. On reflex, Liara and I drew our pistols. Oh yeah, outnumbered and outgunned and the two of us are still wearing helmetless borrowed armor that's barely being held together. Two pistols was gonna stop them.

“Two hostiles detected! Awaiting orders.” A male voice rang out.

“Stand down, Thane, they're friendlies.” A familiar voice called out through the ruckus. And out walked Commander Shepard, motioning for the rest of his team to stand down, his black and red-accented N7 armor marking him center stage.

Oh right. The SOS signal in case things went wrong. I may have forgotten to turn that off. Drat.

“I recognize this one. We have met before.” A female voice piped up.

“Take your buckets off people, we're among friends.” Shepard declared. Everyone holstered their weapons. We did the same.

The woman pulled off her helmet, revealing Justicar Samara. Her suit noticeably more armored and pulsing with power. Probably some biotic mods built in. The second to remove their helmet was the named Thane Krios, his black eyes focusing on me in curiosity. He was arguably the best suited warrior for the Omega-4 Relay mission. As a drell he had absolute perfect memory, down to details, emotions and sensations, which translated to him being deadly with all forms of weaponry and martial arts. Though it did come at the temptation to “lose” oneself in old memories forever, just letting them play on repeat in your head and remember the good times all the way to the grave. Also, he had an incurable terminal illness native to his people, Kepral's Syndrome, and only one next of kin, his son Kolyat. If you're going to die, best to do it while trying to preserve life. I find it ironically quite honorable a stance for a hired killer.

“Variza T'Som. You have twenty-seven bounties on you last I checked. Most from business rivals. It is unlikely to find you here in the Shadow Broker's lair.” Thane responded.

“Finally saying what we're all thinking, Thane,” a psuedo-Polish accented voice spoke as another one stepped forward. She didn't take off her helmet so much as remove a shell of sorts from her hermetically sealed helmeted head. The quarian Tali Zorah had revealed herself.

“Glad to see the Normandy still has the best damn engineer in the galaxy.” I declare to Tali. She turned her head in modesty.

“Tali Zorah has been instrumental to our overall performance.” A mechanical tone droned from the final soldier. Like Tali, it removed a mechanical shell, but the result was much more dramatic. Instead of a humanoid face, it was the all too-familiar singular bright eye of a geth. “Her title, however, can be contested within five percent margin of error.” Tali's posture stiffened, I even saw her stop going to her Omni-Tool to unleash some technical wizardry. Old habits die hard I suppose.

“I'll...just take the compliment if you don't mind, Legion.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Oh you've gotta be kidding me? You're working with geth now?” Jack protested.

“It's a long story. I'll fill you in while we get you to med bay.” Shepard spoke up, motioning Thane and Samara to carry Jack.

Then there was a moment where Shepard had a hand to his ear.

“De-activate the bombs, Garrus. The situation has been handled. Yes, Joker wind down the assault cannons as well.” He removed his hand and looked somewhere behind me. “Kasumi, stop fooling around and get back to the ship.”

I heard a cloaking device power down behind me. Then felt a hand squeeze my shoulder as Kasumi Goto strolled by.

“Nice seeing you again, Variza.” She said in a sing-song way while returning to her group.

My god, Shepard's crew is terrifying.

An hour later it was just me, Liara and Shepard in the Shadow Broker's base.

“So where's the Broker now?” He asked.

I pointed to the pile of ash. “Physically there. Metaphorically speaking, you're talking to them.”

“But Variza, you're just the head of a weapons company.” Shepard gave me some leading looks. “You wouldn't really have a place in such a demanding field as-”

“Shepard, I know the truth.” Liara replied as deadpan as possible.

“Oh.” he rubbed the back of his shaved head nervously.

“Anything you'd want to bring up before we leave? Mordin is almost done modifying a Reaper IFF signal so we can make our way through the relay so we're making sure everything is perfect.”

“Based on the scans we got from the Normandy...a few things.” I said with a smile.


	26. The Calm Before The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza decides to punk her company's board of directors, sit out the Omega-4 Relay Mission, and subject Jack and Liara to one of the most infamous Earth films of all time.

Several months have passed since I took the role as Co-Shadow Broker. I wish I could be more exact, but after the first few weeks on the station on Hagalaz, I had completely lost relative sense of time. Even with multiple clocks, a strict work schedule and the work station emulating a proper day and night cycle, my entire time there felt one long session.

It was also the closest thing to safe in the entire Milky Way I could be while the Collectors were still out there looking for me. As well as God knows what else. Call it paranoid, I call it peak survival.

The bright side is my newfound power and authority lead to plenty of new allies and resources. The day after we had consolidated our power, Liara and I managed to track down Feron. Indirectly or not, he did play a role in us getting here after all. The vid chit we took from his place was a confession of jobs he did for the Broker in the past and that he was going to defect to the Council for asylum. We found him and managed to call off the hit. Even better, we hired him for help. Of course it took some explanation that the new boss was different from the old boss, but we did ultimately win him over by shutting down the operations he had a hand in to ease his conscience. It always pays to have a drell in your info network as well, so it was a win-win situation.

The second order of business was to arm Shepard's crew to the teeth for their big missions, both present and future. Arming the Normandy with experimental bleeding edge armor plating taken from a metallurgy experiment gone horribly right in the Terminus Systems. Equipping the weapon systems with a top of the line cannon courtesy of my boys in R&D, and calibrated by one of the best artillery experts in the galaxy, Garrus Vakarian. Top of the line propulsion systems and a complete overhaul to the Normandy's overall maneuverability, thanks to notes from both Joker and Tali. And of course, a complementary supply of my top of the line best stock.

There were even some very last minute operations we pushed his way. One to further cripple Cerberus' resources, the other to get Shepard a few last crucial shreds of help. The first was a complete shutdown of Project Overlord, a secret Cerberus project designed to completely mentally dominate the geth, with human brains as the source of power. Shepard told me Legion found the whole exercise greatly unsettling, and the poor soul that was used for the project was shipped off to Grissom Academy. There was an attempt by a krogan scientist out in the Terminus Systems to genetically engineer superior krogan supersoldiers. Ones who could develop an immunity to the Genophage. They made it just in time to prevent Cerberus from getting the data, we don't want a repeat of Virmire after all, and extracting the sole success to the project. We call him Grunt, he has the tactics of all the greatest krogan warlords in history in his head and is a peak specimen of his people. He also likes chocolate. He was completely on board with fighting the Collectors. And there was a breadcrumb trail left behind by one of Mordin Solus' medical students, Maelon Heplorn. He was performing highly unethical experimentation on willing krogan species looking for a cure for the Genophage as well but out of altruism. Mordin wanted the research destroyed, citing that it was necessary, but I implored Shepard to hold on to the research, that it would be important later. He listened.

But before Shepard and his team made their final preparations for the Omega-4 mission, I made several requests. It was the least he could do after everything that happened. The first was, admittedly, a bit of petty payback. 

But man oh man was it worth it.

Since I can't fully risk going outside the station and the Broker got a hold of all my privileges as a stockholder in my own company, I haven't exactly been able to check back in or find out who exactly else on the Committee Board sold me out. The stock and admin stuff were a few clicks and passwords away. But I really wanted to make a statement.

So using some QEC hologram tech, I projected myself into the next board room meeting.

“Good evening everyone.” I said casually to the various sharp-dressed businesswomen, their mouths agape at my sudden appearance.

“Miss T'Som, this frequency and this meeting is for board members only.” Zela interjected, her violet face twitching in annoyance.

“Oh how right you are, of course, thank you for reminding me. Shepard, come in and take her away.” I replied, gesturing over my shoulder. Commander Shepard then physically entered the board room accompanied by Justicar Samara and Thane Krios.

“Zela Madine. Commander Shepard, Council's Special Operations Tactics and Reconnaissance. You are under arrest.”  
“This is an outrage! You can't arrest me in the middle of a meeting!” Zela seethed in impotent rage as she was put in restraints.

“Oh thank you once again Zela. You are absolutely right.” I mentioned again barely able to contain my glee as I moved an ice cream sundae into frame, cherry and all, “take her confidants away as well.”

By the time it was over, there was just me and four other asari in the room. Shepard and his team returned. I took out a spoon, ate a few bites, then composed myself.

“Well then, on to business. As you may know, there was a bit of a coup that happened at this company recently. Someone who thought they could get rid of me and pull this company into a direction more viable long-term. And while that is understandable, looking to the decades ahead and all, but I'd appreciate it a lot more if you at least had some dignity about it...” I snapped down on the cherry for emphasis, “...and not get caught with a smoking gun.”

The remaining board members exchanged looks of shock and confusion.

“As much as I appreciate the celebrity status we have as heads of companies here in the asari republics, the interviews, the parties, the-” I looked away in partial embarrassment, “-titillating photoshoots for Sexiest CEO competitions, I like to think of myself as a woman of standards. When you are caught participating in a red dust smuggling ring, kidnapping corporate opponents, paying assassins to deal with certain people in your way... “ I threw a quick look over to Thane on that comment, “...and working with the Shadow Broker, which may I remind everyone here is a dangerous criminal organization, all take me down in a hostile takeover, you have no place here at this company.”

I swear I could hear at least one of them audibly gulp in anxiety. I finished my sundae in utter silence.

“Miss T'Som...what exactly happened with you and the Shadow Broker then?” One of the asari spoke up, her eyes like a doe in headlights.  
“Simple.” I flashed a toothy smile. “I won.”  
The rest of the board broke off eye contact with me, looking back at the holo display in the middle of the table, expressions ranged from terror to nervous.  
“So before we go over the details of the meeting, may I ask how was everyone's weekend?” I asked casually, moving the sundae glass aside.

I never had another person try to stab me in the back at that company ever again.

The second favor was addressing a giant loose end. One last blind spot that I could not account for: The Andromeda Initiative. A project with the express purpose of identifying habitable planets in the Andromeda galaxy, and sending thousands of people from the different Council races beyond the mass relay network into dark space, millions of lightyears away to that galaxy and to colonize it. Specifically the part a certain soldier named Alec Ryder played.

Officially, Alec Ryder was a bona fide hero for humanity. He was part of humanity's historic trip through the Charon mass relay near Pluto, part of Jon Grissom's task force – yes like Grissom Academy – and even served during the First Contact War against the turians. Even after all that, he underwent the N7 program and stayed on the Citadel to serve humanity further.

Then about twenty years ago he was disgracefully discharged by the Alliance when the Council got wind of his illegal AI research. When you have a horror story like what the geth did to the quarians, the galaxy is going to have very low tolerance for such projects after all. The cited reason as for the development was an attempt to cure his wife, Ellen, who had developed an incurable disease from long-term exposure to Element Zero. She wasn't just his wife, but also a legitimate pioneer in engineering, developing human biotic implants. It was most likely due to those extraneous circumstances he wasn't executed immediately.

Which is why I found it abundantly curious that he was hired to work with Jien Garson, the eccentric billionaire behind the Andromeda Initiative. Out of everyone to hire for such an undertaking, choosing him in particular raised several red flags.

We couldn't actively shut down the Initiative itself. It was developed in the private sector, so it basically remained off the Council's radar. Plus I could only imagine every Council member kept it in the back of their mind as some form of safety net. Well if the Reapers totally wipe us out there might be hope for those guys in Andromeda.

But I had to be sure we had every possibility exhausted. Any possible development that could give us an edge.

So I hitched a ride on the Normandy with Shepard and we confronted Alec Ryder. He was on some workstation overseeing the Hyperion Ark, the massive ship responsible for preserving humanity for their six-hundred year trip. We didn't exactly blend in. A veteran of the First Contact War being accompanied by the first human Spectre and two respective heroes of the Battle of the Citadel together in the same room was going to turn some heads. It was noted that Ryder was considerably older than Shepard, more so in attitude than appearance. I kept mentally putting a streak of silver into his combed black hair, and there were more lines and wear and tear on his face compared to Shepard. Despite both of them being some of the toughest humans in the entire galaxy, Ryder looked more worn and hard-boiled.

Hands were shook, wax smiles were flashed, and we were invited back to his lab.

The doors were locked and the tone went from jovial to serious like someone flipped a switch.  
“Please tell me this is important, Commander, we are getting ready to take off tomorrow and I need to double check everything.” Ryder droned on in a relaxed baritone, resting back in his chair while still maintaining a defensive body language.  
“Well, Captain Ryder.” Shepard began.  
“Pathfinder Ryder.” He interrupted, his mouth twitching into something resembling a prideful smile.  
“Pathfinder,” Shepard continued, “we have some concerns regarding the surprisingly fast progress that the initiative has achieved since you joined. And given your personal history and the nature of your discharge.”  
“Get to the point, Shepard.”  
“We know you've still been developing AI to move the Initiative along.” I interrupted. Subtle as a tomahawk to the head; sometimes it's a good thing.

Surprising no one, Ryder pulled out a pistol aimed at my head. “Choose your next words very carefully Miss T'Som.”  
“Well honestly I'm regretting my wardrobe choice if I was going to be threatened with a pistol for the second time this month.” I replied, looking at my formal business dress. His grip didn't loosen. Shepard went to his sidearm as well but I gestured to both of them to calm down.  
“First thing's first, we're not here to take you in. As you said, you're gonna be humanity's representative in Andromeda. It would be awkward if you were incarcerated the day before, especially after your discharge from the Alliance.”  
“Nobody wants that.” Shepard commented, his hand remaining hovering over the sidearm.  
“Then please, present your evidence that I've been working on AI against the wishes of Council space in the private sector.” Ryder replied, his body becoming noticeably more tense.  
“Well aside from your prior AI development from before, there was the fact that there are accounts of you talking with a quarian engineer with significant experience analyzing the geth.”  
“That's correlation, little blue detective, not causation.” Ryder chided.  
“Countless purchases made by various tech companies, specifically VI development and recent software for implants.”  
“We have a lot of biotics coming with us, we have to be sure their implants don't malfunction or break down with six-hundred years of stasis.” Ryder quickly replied.  
“Yes,” I said with a smile, “which is something that would be the concern of people outside of your department.” Ryder's jaw tightened.  
“And there is a transcript my sources have discovered of you actively seeking the aid of the Shadow Broker to obtain research from other underground AI development projects before they were shut down by the Alliance, the Council, or Shepard's own network of shadow troopers.”  
“You have no evidence of tha-” I cut him off by playing the audio. “-ahhh shit.”

Ryder moved to shoot but Shepard already had his pistol drawn. “Stand down, Ryder. People hear shots it'll draw attention. You wouldn't want that. Like she said, we're not here to arrest you.”  
Ryder finally relaxed his stance and let his arms drop. Shepard holstered his pistol.  
“Alright, what do you want to know?”  
“Well we want to see if it can be used in controlled environments for combat applications. Coordination, logistics. You know, viability for clandestine missions.”  
“For the Council? You have a death wish too?” Ryder remarked.  
“Actually this is for a personal mission I'm undertaking. Spectre authority I think will override the Council's concerns.” Shepard commented.  
“Like that'll work.”  
“I already have a geth on my crew taking orders and being an invaluable asset. I don't see why not.” Shepard's tone was so matter of fact it almost made me surprised. It got a cocked eyebrow and a bemused smirk from Ryder nonetheless.

Ryder turned around in his chair and activated several instruments on his table. And introduced us to Simulated Adaptive Matrix, or SAM. Ryder explained that SAM was originally designed with the express purpose of enhancing and improving organic life, working in tandem with specialized implants based on the tech Ellen designed and taken to a new extreme. For comparison, biotic amps are plugged into the nervous system, SAM's implants are slipped into the nervous, circulatory, endocrine function, and exteroceptive systems. I actually had to stop myself from making a Six Million Dollar Man joke from how extensive it was.

The idea was that it was going to bolster Ellen's immune system, to help it fight off the disease while repairing the damage done. But when Garson hired Ryder, it was to help with coordinating the large undertaking of the various Arks and the central command center, The Nexus. Andromeda doesn't have mass relays or a Citadel of its own, so it made sense to develop something on that level and fast. What better way than to utilize SAM's other useful features. While SAM is plugged into a node, its own personal housing and data bank, everyone with implants can communicate with one another through secure channels and the AI gets a constant data stream of their physical and mental health. There's also a noticeable increase in combat survival thanks to enhanced situational awareness and the ability to control adrenal function.

SAM is also able to record their actions. Not just their physical actions but their thoughts, their various learned skills. He can then project them to someone else, allowing them to utilize that skillset as if it was their own. Your own personal archive of skill profiles for whatever you need in a pinch.

“Holy shit...”I gasped in disbelief.

“How the hell hasn't this thing gone rampant and converted people into husks or something?” Shepard remarked.

“Because nobody in their right mind actively wants to be one of those. So SAM keeps them as is. And since SAM's sense of self-preservation is tied in part to those in his network surviving, his lateral thinking skills and problem solving are tailor-made to ensure everyone lives.”

My eyes widen in revelation. “ A computer only does what you program it to do. And since SAM works on its own isolated network through these implants, he can be handled in concentrated instances. No out of control hive mind like the geth or murderous existentialism.” I remarked. “You created an AI whose very intended goal is symbiotic in nature and adhered to a limited but flexible form and function.”

“Now you're getting it Miss T'Som. Unfortunately the profiling system is still being worked on. You can't exactly sling dark energy around without biotic amps, a human being can't get a benefit of a krogan battle rage, simple biological incompatibility that can lead to problems if you're not careful. In fact it's so tempermental and prone to abuse and possible long-term neurological damage I restrict its use to few select candidates and in controlled situations only.”

“How many of these SAMs have you developed?” Shepard asked.

“One for each Ark, and wired to their respective Pathfinder. Asari, turian, salarian, krogan, and human obviously.”

Shepard and I traded looks.

“Name your price.” I stated.

“What?”

“How much would it take to have another SAM developed, a node installed on the SSV Normandy and implants to be used on key crew and personnel in a short amount of time. The sky's the limit...or at least a few million credits if I call in some favors.” I replied, my Omni-Tool out ready to wire whatever amount declared.

“Miss T'Som I'm going to another galaxy tomorrow, that money is basically useless.”

“But-”

“And don't bring up next of kin either. My children Scott and Sara are coming with me to Andromeda.”  
I slouched over in defeat. Dammit.

“But you know something. If whatever the hell you're going after is so dangerous it has Commander Shepard asking for my help. I think I'll make an exception. SAM, do we have any more of your baseline templates on file?” Ryder inquired.

A cool masculine voice droned on around us. “As a matter of fact, yes. I was just about to delete it when I overheard your conversation. I am assuming that plan has changed.”

“As a matter of fact it has.” Ryder said with a smile.

“I'll let the crew make some room and inform Tali that she has a project ahead of her.” Shepard replied.

“My people have already forwarded materials and schematics to the Normandy.” Ryder smiled. Tapping his temple as if to answer the follow-up question.

Shepard blinked. “I'll go back to the hangar and tell my people to make way.” and he took off out of the room.

Then it was just me and Ryder in the room together. The Hyperion Ark floating outside his window. I cleared my throat and turned away from him, focusing on the Ark instead.

“You should really be proud of what you're about to do, you know?” I spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Yeah. Going off the map, seeing if there are any dragons out there. Quite terrifying, but oh so exciting.”

“Yeah. We'll try not to wreck the place while you're out.” I chuckled. I thought I heard a jovial grunt from Ryder.

“You know, Miss T'Som. The Leusinia Ark is looking for a few more volunteers. They could use someone like you, bring your engineering expertise to the unknown. I could put in a good word for you.”

A trip to the Andromeda galaxy. Leave the Milky Way behind. No Reapers, no Collectors, no Cerberus. No friends... no help... no idea of what to do.... Condemning countless trillions to death....

“Sorry, Pathfinder,” I turned to him and put on my best smile, “my path is here.”

“Well, if that's the case, then I wish you the best of luck.” He held out his hand.

“Same to you.” I shook it. 

The following day the Nexus and the Arks ventured off into dark space never to be seen again. A few days later SAM was successfully installed on the Normandy. The cover story was that SAM was a prototype military tactical VI, most of the personnel bought it. But Shepard remained relatively silent about it to his team. Progress can't be forced after all, they're still getting used to Legion on the ship. I know I'd accidentally pull a weapon on him just on pure reflex alone. Don't want to add to the awkwardness by having a synthetic mind in my nerves and brain.

In retrospect, that last visit ended up being more about giving Shepard yet another advantage. I'm not gonna complain. Sometimes the universe gives you a cookie.

Then the moment of truth came. Shepard's team made the plunge to strike at the Collector's core, to end their mass abduction of human colonies and strike a critical blow against the Reapers. Honestly, it was terrifying knowing that I wasn't with them. I wanted to be sure they'd all survive and too much has changed for me to leave anything to chance. But this was the one crucial step I had to leave almost entirely to faith.

But it didn't stop me from having a nightmare about what they were facing. The Brood ships of the Collectors swarming around their base. The shear danger of the base being near the galactic core, full of gravity wells and dangerous anomalies. Then there was what was inside. Millions of insect-like Seeker Swarms that can paralyze anyone with a single bite. The particle beam weapons wielded by their bipedal shock troops. The horrendous mutated monsters and giants. Worse still, the fact that any one of them can be directly controlled by one of the Reapers like Sovereign did to Saren. Overclocking even the most disposable of drones into an engine of terrifying power.

Then there was the greatest horrors yet to come. The ones I didn't want to bring up to the others. The ultimate fate of the Protheans, the apex species of the Milky Way galaxy, weren't just victims of the Reapers' galaxy-wide culling; they also became servants. The Collectors...were them. Heavily genetically modified with all rebellion and individuality ripped out of them. 

And the countless thousands of humans being abducted? They were being used as raw material to create a new Reaper, one with all the qualities of humanity but dedicated to the Reaper cause of ending organic life. No matter what I could tell Shepard, no matter how many of the best and brightest I could get to his cause, no matter how many weapons, shields, armor, or resources I could forward to him, nothing can fully prepare you for that.

Yet, I had to imagine it going right. The team rescuing as many as they can. Joker's piloting skills getting them through the outside defenses. Mordin finding a counter for the Seeker Swarms. Tali and Kasumi collaborating on hacking and infiltrating the security of the place. Thane, Samara and Grunt using their combat skills to break through Collector ranks. Garrus and Shepard's expertise in tactics and demolitions to find just the right spots to place bombs. SAM helping to coordinate them all, to make sure there are no slips-ups or itchy trigger fingers. The close calls. The points of no return. The final plunge into the belly of the beast. The chaotic battle against the Proto-Reaper. The discovery of the nerve center of the base. The bombs going off. The mad chaotic dash through the base as it falls apart like an elaborate bee hive getting crushed together with a computer hardware factory. The Collectors collapsing under all the duress as Harbinger roars out one last haunting threat to his proxies.  
“You have failed. We will find another way.”

The escape. The jump back to civilized space. The grand collective exhale to the breath no one consciously knew they were holding.

It was a comforting thought to cling to.

Then the return happened. The Normandy was one hiccup away from snapping in half. Everything except the atmospheric control systems were torn apart. The cannons had overheated to the point of the internal parts melting. Half of the ship's personnel had died keeping the whole thing together. The ride back was so hellish Joker had to be committed to a full-body cast afterwards, it's a miracle he lived through it at all with the brittle bones he inherited from Vrolik's Syndrome. The rest of Shepard's team didn't fair much better. Garrus had lost part of his jaw. Tali suffered so many bullet wounds she was on the verge of dying of toxic shock. Everybody else was being held together by globs of medi-gel and pure grit.

But as the Alliance arrived to rescue and tend to the crew, Shepard sent out one simple message when it was over. “They're coming. We need to be ready.”

Thankfully after that nightmarish mission, things settled into an oddly zen period. In the nights between our ongoing attempts to fund the Crucible project and twist criminal organizations' arms into getting the Reaper War Machine up and running early all while cutting through bureaucratic red tape like goddamn samurai sword, Liara continuously pulled up various forms of asari culture for me to view. It was the weirdest form of workplace detox I ever undertook, but I did ultimately appreciate it; the material and the candid company we now shared. I mean if I did honestly want to be a part of this world as one of her people it had to be for other reasons other than the telekinesis and melding, so she was eager to share things that just could not be fully appreciated on the other side of a television monitor.

I developed a liking for the thirty-hour long romance epics and the poetry. They were just the right level of saccharine and poignant to stick with me. Which was weird considering how condescending and trite I found stuff like it on the Hallmark channel five years and a lifetime ago. Part of me wanted to believe it was just comforting to know that such stories of love and friendship across the stars could still exist devoid of gun battles and the fate of entire planets resting on the heroes' shoulders.

But as the weeks dragged on my pace became more hurried, the workload more intensified. I could feel an invisible clock ticking down to the Reapers making their next move. It could be tomorrow, or next week, or maybe they've already showed up and there was a gap in the network that we forgot to check. Despite the smiles and the brisk work ethic Liara and I settled into, I was utterly paranoid of when the other shoe would drop.

I then had to casually mention it was a day or so past my birthday. My actual birthday, not the birthday of my asari form. It was the best measurement I had. So in a weird attempt to make up for the whole thing, Liara surprised me with a visit from Jack, albeit with a cane (god twenty-second century medicine is amazing), some fancy asari vintage wines and a collection of films from my time.

“You cannot be serious.” I replied, mouth agape.

“Well you've been so accepting of asari culture, I wanted to get a first-hand account of films and media you enjoy. It should be quite stimulating from an anthropological perspective.” Liara beamed.

“Leave it to you to make a simple movie night sound boring, doc,” Jack rolled her eyes.

I tried several times to start a sentence. “Liara we... there's still so much to do. What about freezing Henry Lawson's assets and finding asylum for Oriana? You know, the guy whose so in bed with the Illusive Man they're practically conjoined twins?”

“Done.”

“Jacob Taylor's father? The whole Flowers For Algernon situation with the-”

“They've been extracted and court martial'd already, I just got word from Admiral Hackett.”

“The securing of the Ardat Yakshi asylum on Thessia? The Temple of Athame?”

“Handled.”

“Final preparations for the Crucible?” I rambled, flipping through my console for anything else to do. “The scheduled martial drills with the commandos? Cleaning the base for listening devices or bugs? Scrubbing the bathroom!?”

“Oh for fuck's sake, blue. A couple of drinks and old movies aren't gonna kill ya!” Jack finally yelled.

“I have to agree with Jack. There is such a thing as working too hard. And who knows if we'll ever get another opportunity like this.” Liara motioned to a holo display emulating a flat screen TV. “Now am I going to have to hit a random film or do you want some say in the matter?”

I looked at the chilled bottle of asari wine and back to Liara and Jack. With a flick of the wrist and a thought, I popped the cork.

All told, the selections by Liara seemed comprehensive. Films that have won multiple awards by various film academies, both the classics and the undeserved flavors of the week. For every Casablanca or Lord of the Rings there was a Crash or The Artist to sift through. A lot of odd foreign films that I had no real experience with, which honestly I want to chalk up to her not fully grasping that globalism was something humanity kind of struggled with until the Prothean discovery on Mars. And an untold amount of movies that I sincerely never would have guessed were made by human beings, bolstered on to creative optimism between the discovery of mass relays and the first contact.

So I humored Liara. A few black and white classics here, some Shakespearean adaptations there. Even a few movies within my lifetime of the 1990s and 2000s got a screening. I honestly lost track of time and the wine was a lot more heady than I had initially anticipated.

Then Jack asked the question that was in the back of my head for the past few hours. “Where the hell's the crap!?” she slurred.

Liara blinked several times. “Excuse me?”

“Where's the crap!? The piece of shit movies!”

“Oh dear god you're right!” I exclaimed. “We haven't seen anything really bad. Just award winners and fancypants artsy stuff.”

“I-I-I don't understand.” Liara stuttered. “How can you find any entertainment in that?”

“Oh god you've never riffed anything in your life??” I declared in shock. “What have you been doing with your life!?” Liara gave me a sleepy look of confusion.

My hands moved in a blur, I hardly even remember what weird depraved conservation site I even went to uncover this particular artifact. But somehow within five minutes I had unearthed one of the worst movies Earth has ever produced.

“What is The Room?” Jack asked. “And why is it labeled as a comedy?”

“I think I heard about this. Didn't it get nominated for some of your Academy Awards?” Liara mumbled.

“Nope!” I barked out in laughter. “That was a movie about the making of this movie. The director, producer, writer, and star of the movie was a bizarre recluse of a guy and the whole production was so batshit insane it had to be seen to be believed. Also it's only a comedy after the fact. It's actually trying to be a serious character drama.”

“Goddess... I think I'm going to need another drink.”

“I'll join you.” Jack and I replied in unison.

So the impromptu human media appreciation movie night ended with a screening of The Room. And it was glorious. Liara kept on asking whether or not humanity made first contact before the turians or not just on the shear baffling build, mannerisms and attitude of Tommy Wiseau. Liara falling into a fit of giggles at the rapidfire flower shop scene. The baffling surreality of seeing a bunch of adults playing football in an alleyway while wearing tuxedos. Liara choking on her drink at the casual mention of breast cancer and her utter confusion at that plot thread never coming up again. Jack and I losing our minds in laughter at the terrible attempt to emulate James Dean with the infamous “You are tearing me apart, Lisa!” line. And of course, the weirdly perverse glee at seeing Tommy Wiseau awkwardly throw a hissy fit and then shoot himself... only for supporting characters to wander in and ask if he's dead while staring at him in a puddle of his own blood with a bullet hole in his head.

By the time the credits rolled, Jack had passed out on the couch and Liara and I had somehow wound up wrapped around each other in a blanket.

“You know, Shepard might get jealous if he sees us like this.” I mumbled, trying to fight off sleep.  
“Oh I don't know about that.” Liara nuzzled my neck. “Besides, technically didn't you have a thing for me before Shepard?”

“Liara, you're drunk, it wouldn't be right.” I deflected, quietly guiding her down.

“I didn't hear a no,” she smiled. “ I mean, I must have been in your head one way or another for you to show up like this.” She then rested her head in my breasts. I shivered slightly at the sensation.

“Well... you're not wrong. In a way I thought it would be simpler.” I mused.

“Mmmm,” Liara curled up, looking up in curiosity.

“I mean, one gender, be with whoever you want. A widespread popular religion that preaches unity and tolerance. The perspective of hundreds of years. I just thought it'd be simpler.”

“Is it not the same with humanity? They look no different from each other than asari do. And don't I hear you repeating Christian beliefs every now and then?” She mumbled through the fabric of my shirt.

My mind flickered back to memories of a past life. I shut my eyes in frustration and shut it out.

“What you've seen is humanity at their best. Right now they've stopped fighting...for the most part. Where I come from the fighting... never seems to stop. For some reason or another, we tear each other apart for ridiculous reasons and it... makes me very sad.” I chose my words carefully. I could feel the fire and anger that I haven't felt since I first met Jump build up again. I took some deep breaths.

“But I guess...the more things change, the more they stay the same. The whole government and corporate culture feels like I'm in high school again. But everyone is a gossipy self-obsessed mean girl.” I chuckled at the comparison. “And for a race that preaches love and understanding, there are so many moments where they think way too much about themselves. Looking down on races for not living as long. I mean...I actually heard an asari girl said she'd just 'tough it out for a few decades' when it came to dating a human. Can you imagine?”

Liara slurred something unintelligble.

“But... you know what? I'm glad I'm here. I mean... despite how messed up everything has gotten, how much I've dabbled with the status quo, and the whole 'eat, drink, be merry for tomorrow we may die' thing we have right now. I don't regret a thing.”

I felt Liara snooze off. I smiled and bundled us a little closer together.

“Good night, Liara.”

I then looked over to the calendar for the first time in forever. I then turned to Jack. The serial killer turned teacher for the future. “Happy Valentine's Day, Jack.”

And then sleep finally began to take me. “I'll try to...get you some candy or...somethin'...”

When I woke up, Earth was swarmed with the Reapers.


	27. The Reaper War Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of preparation, protocol, traps, and schemes, the Reapers finally arrive. Variza and her team fights their way out of T'Som Manufacturing to retrieve a few final crucial assets, only for Cerberus to reveal their endgame.

“Feron what's the location of the Council!?” I exclaimed, slipping on my armor and priming my pistol.

“The Salarian dalatrass is on the Citadel with Councilor Udina. I tried reaching the asari leader but she's gone completely dark. Her last known location was Illium. The Turian Primarch is currently on Palaven leading the Turian Navy against the Reaper assault on their system.”

“How are the Hellfire Cannons holding up?” I asked, adjusting my SMG and double checking my pouch of thermal clips.

“They're taking care of most of the ground troops but the artillery bombardments are keeping the turians pinned.” Feron dashed past me, clipping a shotgun and an assault rifle to his person and joining me to my shuttle.

I knew I should have sent them some anti-personnel turrets to deal with the smaller threats.

“I'll call in Aria, see if we can't get some of her men to help support them. We have to get those Councilors together for the war meeting.” Liara brushed shoulders with me, checking her pistol and picking up her pace.

“Do we know where Shepard is? The crew? The status of the Normandy?” Jack chimed in, cracking her knuckles and stretching her neck as she joined our trek through the corridors. Quickly crushing some painkillers and walking confidently; albeit with a limp.

“According to Hackett they went their separate ways. Garrus went to Palaven and went all Doomsday Preppers despite protests by his family. Joker stayed with the Normandy while it got repaired, though honestly at his level of hospitalization he didn't have too much of a say in the matter. Grunt joined Wrex on Tuchanka and started opening negotiations with the salarians.”

“Does that have anything to do with all the Genophage research you guys were forwarding?” Jack started.

“Yes,” Liara and I declared in unison.

“Good god, you're turning into twins.”

I was surprised a hole didn't burn into Jack's skull from the looks Liara and I gave her at that statement. The fact we didn't bump into any of asari commandos dashing around prepping for lift off doubly so.

“Speaking of salarians, it looks like Mordin Solus has been working extensively with the Salarian Special Tasks Unit at one of their bases. If that is to be believed they're holding on to a bargaining chip for the negotiations at the Citadel.” Liara rattled off.

“Twist some arms and get him and the asset to the Citadel. By the time they arrive negotiations will have evened out. Time is precious and we can't have the Reapers separating them from us.” I rattled off in a rehearsed tone.

“How exactly am I going to convince one of the best espionage organizations in the galaxy that negotiations went well?”

“Tell them that negotiations went well and the exchange was scheduled for ASAP and delivered to Tuchanka.”

“Wouldn't that classify as lying? One of the worst things you can do to your comrades in a war scenario?” Feron remarked while doing a shell count of his own.

“By the time they get the message through the Extranet, it won't be a lie. It's a hail mary, but it'll shave precious hours off the commute.” I responded.

“Alright, that's the Variza I know.” Jack quipped.

“Clever and forward-thinking?”

“Batshit insane and quick to conclusions.”

The four of us finally stepped out of Hagalaz base and stared at the barely held together Kodiak shuttle that brought us here to begin with, my five asari commandos piling in and going over final flight preparations. Even with all the repairs and touch-ups done on it, it still looked like it was past its prime.

“We're gonna fly headlong into a war for the entire galaxy in that piece of shit...” Jack cringed.

“Trust me, it's a smarter idea than holing up in there. Out there we have a fighting chance. Otherwise they just have to drop an indoctrination device nearby and watch us kill ourselves.” I said casually.

“It still seems like a needless risk. Besides, we could better coordinate from the base rather than what I can forward to our office at the Citadel.” Liara remarked. “Are you sure this is a good idea? There's a good chance they'll miss the base.”

“With the Reapers it's a matter of when, not if. Besides, we aren't heading straight for the Citadel. We're heading back to my R&D wing on Illium. Consider it a detour.” I hopped into the shuttle. “Come on ladies! Hell's a waitin' and I want first crack at the devil himself!”

With that, we left Hagalaz behind.

Things were decidedly different during this particular trip through the stars. First, since the entire shuttle was carrying six asari armed to the teeth and a drell info broker, I had to awkwardly stand in the cockpit with Jack. If that volus I got this ship from survives this culling I'll throttle him. This newfound position gave me a front row seat of the chaos that was starting to erupt across the Milky Way as my foul-mouthed pilot charted a course to the asari republics. Ships were practically crashing into each other trying to get through the mass relays. Damaged or disabled vessels were peppered about, either blasting out desperate SOS signals or remaining dark due to paranoia over who would hear it. Or worse. I shivered at the thought.

Jack managed to keep her flying smooth until we entered Illium's atmosphere. And compared to the messy space ways, it was acting like business as usual. Giant holo displays of the system's top 10 most attractive and powerful CEOs, fluff videos about the grand benefits of signing three-century contracts with various companies for peanuts playing in obnoxious traveling ads, and absolutely nobody hunkering down in bunkers. It has almost been an entire day since Earth has been hit by the Reapers. I started grinding my teeth at the ignorance of it all. I wanted to turn the ship around and leave....

Instead, I turned around and gave my team a sit rep.

“Alright everyone, here's the plan. Once we are cleared on the helipad we must all proceed to the Maintenance Wing. Basically the final step of our product getting stress tested before it goes out to our employers. Our task is twofold. First is to get as much of the supply as secured as possible. Weapons, thermal clips, power cells, whatever. Pack as much as you can, stack it as high as you can go like it's the end of the world and you're looting the place for everything that isn't bolted to the floor.”

“So basically what is actually happening?” Tana commented with a smirk, fiddling with her Omni-Tool and maintaining a collection of glowing light shields around her person.

“Just be glad you're one of the best sentinels in the squad and that I'm not a formal CO Tana, otherwise I'd be slamming you into the hull right now with my mind.” I snapped back. She broke her gaze with me first, her violet face possibly getting a little more violet in embarrassment.

“So we came all the way here just to get some bigger boomsticks? I don't exactly see the urgency when half the Systems Alliance already has stuff like this.” Jessia inquired, casually calling biotic power in her free hand while lazily holding her shotgun on her lap.

“This isn't arming ourselves, this is cleaning house. Removing as many possible points of leverage that can be turned against us as possible. When this company and its supplies get blown to kingdom come I want to be sure the bones are picked clean already.”

“How exactly are you certain that those will even be Reaper targets?” Xun commented, her features obscured by her helmet as she tweaked the scope of her sniper rifle.

My mind jumped to the cyberized vorcha that ambushed me on Omega. I shook my head, “just a feeling,” I breathed. Then I cleared my throat and continued.

“The second major goal is dealing with the files. Tana, that's where you and your tech skills come in. Salvage as much as you can from the archives. Failed projects, successful projects. Stuff that didn't get off the ground. Once you have that and we can confirm the data is secure, delete the archive. Once that is done I'll need you to upload a program to the local holo display network. A prerecorded message.”

“But that would require codes and admin privileges only granted to the media board.” Tana remarked.

“I got you covered.” Feron spoke up, tapping several icons on his Tool. Tana checked her tool a moment later, her expression brightened. “Oh.”

“Seems standard so far, Variza, any VIPs we need to prep for extraction?” Lexa spoke up as she readjusted the armor plating on her suit.

“Got a bit ahead of me there,” I replied with a smile, I saw the edges of a smile on her face through her more translucent helmet, “that is actually major goal number three: Project Revenant. A highly valuable target of great importance that I have kept at a secure location in the R&D wing. For the sake of the greatest secrecy his sole interaction has been with preprogrammed LOKI and our recently minted LAUFEY mechs. They go in, bring needed supplies and food, then leave on a regular basis. The only other one that can enter his room is me via a DNA lock. Objective is simple: extract the VIP of Project Revenant from his isolated wing and get him out of here.”

Liara gave me a skeptical look, “How exactly are we going to go about extraction? The Kodiak shuttle here is already full to capacity, we can't exactly bring on more equipment, let alone more people.”

“And I am not gonna fly this giant metal gnat any longer than I have to!” Jack exclaimed from the cockpit.

“Don't worry, objective number two and some forethought have handled our extraction plan. It's just a matter of waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“Like I said. Batshit insane and quick to conclusions. We're making our descent now.” Jack remarked. A few moments later we felt the shuttle land on stable ground.

From there, everything proceeded like clockwork with Lexa taking over as leader. I might pay the bills but she's got over a century and a half of field work experience, so naturally I always defer command to her. Tana, Jessia, and Lexa took off with Feron and Liara to Manufacturing, Xun was dropped off on an adjacent building for her to set up her sniper nest, and Lexa along with her Tiamnes (I never could remember her name, only that she is the asari equivalent to a second in command) with me to R&D.

During the trip up, I mused on the fact that the penthouse up top was most likely fully prepared and waiting for me, complete with an oiled pillow and sheets with a generous thread count, and I'd probably never rest in it again. Once the elevator doors opened we were greeted by several armed soldiers in armor wandering through the wing on patrol.

“Ahh Miss T'Som, What a lovely visit. We thought you were taking an extended leave of absence.” One of the soldiers replied with a light wave, his voice a low baritone.

I traded looks with Lexa's squad, gesturing to her to arm their weapons and spread out before turning back to the guard.

“Yes, I wanted to be sure that everything was being taken care of. Delicate secrets and company assets, you understand if I enjoy a personal touch.” I gave him a cold smile as my hand slowly dropped to my hand cannon.

“Well...yes of course. I mean I've only been part of the staff for about six months so this is quite the first time.” The guard stammered as one of his hands shook. Several guards in the background began to move quickly and more deliberately.

“Ah...” Alright enough of this charade, “Then you should know that I gave everyone the day off and told security to lock everything down as of yesterday? Complete with payment for the day in question with overtime included?”

The fake guard gulped. Probably because he realized he got caught, and that he was staring down four armed asari.

“Secure the asset!” he screamed as he readied his SMG. “Eat lead space slut!” he assumed the firing position, ready to fire.

I moved my other free hand and with a thought grabbed his right leg in glowing blue power. With a second thought I slung him into the armored work bench nearby. Lexa finished him off with a quick double tap from her rifle.

The rest of the patrol reacted to the gunfire by readying their weapons and opening fire. My old training with Shepard kicked in as I dropped near a workbench for cover. “Goddammit I don't have time for this!” I yelled out loud as I fiddled with my pistol, activating its phasic mode. Screw your shields, I'm in a hurry.

In several fluid rote acts of muscle memory I called up a barrier to complement my shield, popped out of cover and took fire at the three other men I could see. The recoil on the gun shaking my body with each impact as the rounds tore chunks out of the improvised cover, blasting through the guards' armor.

“Variza, handle the stragglers, I'll take point!” Lexa declared as she ran down the corridor taking a hard right into the next room, her arms thrown in front summoning a wall of telekinetic power. Her squadmate with her at the ready. Out of sight, I heard more voices call for reinforcement.

A beat later Tana was in my ear via comms.

“Variza, we're not alone here! Who are these assholes!?” Her voice barely audible under gunfire.  
“If I was a betting woman, I'd say Cerberus trying to rob me blind.”  
“Cerberus?”  
“Do you know any other human organization that would be quick to call us 'space sluts?'”  
“Good point. The message is broadcasting now, but these guys aren't exactly standing around and letting me work on the copy and purge.”  
My gaze turned to my two bodyguards, just in time to see them walking into an impromptu kill box. Flanked on both sides by relentless gunfire. A pincer to catch their spear position.

“Hang in there! I can call in back-up but it'll shut off all consoles in the building. Get the others to cover you and keep me posted!”

“Roger that!”

With a bark of effort and a confident thrust of my hands I unleashed a wealth of biotic power straight above the team, generating a singularity. All of Cerberus' precious cover started floating off the ground, swirling violently into the epicenter. The soldiers shortly followed them. By my count about a dozen of them were caught in my black hole like fish in a zero-g barrel. I sprinted towards my teammates, my pistol barking death at my targets.

By the time I closed the gap, the air was full of nothing but half-baked weapons, floating tables, and armored corpses. With another surge of will I dispelled the gravity well, letting the debris float to the ground.

After a beat to catch my breath I rushed past Lexa, “We're officially on a time limit ladies. Cerberus is giving the others trouble and I can't call in the security mechs without doing an emergency shut down. We have to buy Tana some time to finish up.”

“My Tiamnes will buy you some time, Variza.” Lexa replied, gesturing to her number two. They quickly formed a defensive line as I continued towards the ominous door at the back of the room.

It looked like any other door in the facility. Except instead of the usual holographic display in the middle used to open and close, there was a handprint scanner, hardwired into the door. And above it, a camera. One was for my personal access, the other was to make sure my guest could double check the mechs dropping off supplies weren't sabotaged or whatever. It was primitive and analog as hell compared to everything else, but it worked.

I placed my hand on the scanner and the doors opened, revealing a modestly sized room. On the right was a bedroom nook, draped in exotic sheets of some sort of velvet fabric; a small bowl filled with some clear solution next to it. Adorning the walls were more banners in the same faux velvet material, etched with banners to an empire long since dead. On the left was a workbench, covered haphazardly with tools, globs of omni-gel, and the discarded parts of other guns.

And hunched over it was the revenant of Project Revenant.

Prince Javik, the last of the Prothean Empire.

“Javik, we have to go now. We have guests and they're not exactly looking for prisoners.” I declared, looking over my shoulder to see my squadmates laying down suppressing fire on Cerberus' latest arrival.

He turned sharply to address me with a harsh glare, his yellow eyes piercing. “Give me five minutes. My latest design is close to a breakthrough.” his tone was cold and ruthless, his accent approximating African.

I blinked in disbelief. “Really? We're close to being shot to ribbons with the Reapers knocking on our front door, and the first words out of your mouth is to-”

“I said give me time!” Javik barked, throwing out a hand in a show of force. An instant later my body burst into green flames. I grasped at my throat, unable to breathe as unseen pressure began to weigh down on me, burning pain seeping into me. The pain and pressure stopped once I fell to my knees, scrambling desperately for a release.

“I know all too well what we are up against, Variza T'Som. Which is why you will give me the time I need.” He flexed his hand casually to dispel the green traces of biotic power and returned to his work.

Then Tana came back on the comms. “Variza, it's Tana. Feron, Jack, and Liara have set up a defense and I'm starting the purge now. It'll take me about five minutes if we're lucky. Think you can hold out?”

After taking in a sharp breath of air, clutching my chest and punching the floor in a stubborn fit, I responded. “Yeah I guess.” My eyes flickered back to Javik before I turned back to join Lexa's defensive line, reloading my pistol. “Be thorough, we can't let Cerberus get any of these secrets.”

“Big talk from someone who has done nothing but plunder secrets.” A third voice in my ear chimed. A voice I haven't heard since Donovan Hock's party.

“Alright, I'll skip the questions you'll relish answering like how you got this frequency and how you hacked in, Illusive Man and just get right to asking what do you want?” I sniped while swapping out my pistol for my SMG.

“I think my associates have made that perfectly clear.” He smarmed. A stray shot punching a hole near my left ear seemed to punctuate the statement.

“You are nothing more than a thief and a wretch,” his tone turned venomous and strained, “you stole secrets and skills from humanity and used it for your own gains. Robbing us of what is rightfully ours. Experimental nuclear launchers, anti-aircraft artillery, black hole guns. All projects by my scientists at Cerberus. All mysteriously in your possession already patented and iterated upon. Typical of an asari, for all of your talk of unity and care, you treat every other race like children. Being able to dictate who is allowed to have what like you're all-knowing.”

“Oh yeah, real man of priorities. Your home planet is getting wrecked by genocidal machines and your first thought is coming after us. Doesn't yell crazy at all!” I popped out of cover and struck the air with a shockwave. Concussive blasts rattled past the guards disrupting what little blindspots they had, a beat later they were shredded by gunfire.

“The Reapers will be dealt with in time. You see, while you have been looking to destroy, I have been aiming towards a greater goal. If we could control the Reapers, there would be no force in the entire Milky Way that could oppose us. Humanity will truly blossom and we could secure peace for all.”

“First of all, you sound like a cartoon villain. The Reapers killed their own creators and countless others before us, do you really think you will fare much better?”

“Variza, something's wrong.” Lexa spoke up.

“Keep firing Lexa,” I snapped back. “Second, this make humanity great again shit makes me want to vomit. You are literally advocating for ambition far beyond your reach.”

“I guess you have to be human to understand, Miss T'Som.” Illusive Man stated, his voice steady and brimming with contempt.

“But yes. We haven't been able to stop them before. But then again...that's why you built the Crucible.” I swear I could hear him well up into an ecstatic smile on that last statement.

“You wouldn't.” I growled

“Variza, they've stopped firing.” Lexa replied urgently.

Wait what?

“Funny thing about using penal labor on such a project, a lot of those prisoners were human. Humans who quite fervently share my views Miss T'Som.” there was a beat almost approaching self-awareness on his part. “You work with what you have.” So close. “And what I have is the best chance in the galaxy to getting those robotic bastards to kneel to us.” I could hear him take a break to take a drag on his cigarette before continuing. “It's just a matter of securing the Council and the war effort on the Citadel. Which is where your weaponry comes in.”

I then felt a powerful blast ripple towards us, like a gust of wind tinted with the smell of burnt ozone. A few moments later, Lexa's partner flew behind us into Javik's workshop, her body crumpled on the floor.

Lexa and I popped out of cover and saw two figures walking towards us. The first was helmeted and covered in a skintight tactical catsuit. Female build. Packing an SMG and pistol like me. Her body utterly drenched in biotic power making her glow an ethereal violet.

The second was The Illusive Man's deadliest hitman: Kai Leng. Armored head to toe in light plating, his Asian features obscured by painful-looking cybernetic implants across his eyes and lower jaw. But that wasn't the worst of it, his kinetic shield continued to flicker with red energy discharge, almost in time with the twitches coming from a device on his left hand. It reminded me of the gauntlets Iron Man wore. But I knew better; it was an improvement of the energy absorbing technology I saw painfully grafted on to Benezia so long ago. His right hand casually twirled a deadly ninjato.

“As for your condescension to what we are capable of, we've already made strides in bending the Reaper technology to our command. A mere stepping stone to our future. Allow my loyal associates to demonstrate.” The Illusive Man then clicked off of the comms.

Tana spoke up once more, “Variza we're almost done here but there are these fast-looking assholes with swords now coming at us.”

“Let me know the instant you're done.” I replied quietly.

The catsuited biotic spoke up first, her accent carrying British intonation. “Alright, you get one chance to surrender and we'll consider letting you live,” she honestly sounded like she was displeased with the color of her nail polish. On balance it made the threat more intimidating.

Alright, time to Tarentino my way to a run out clock.

“That depends on the rules of the surrender, naturally,” I smirked, maintaining my firing position and keeping my pistol steady. “I mean is this technically a surrender under war time as per Earth's Geneva Conventions, or an unspoken contract between both parties with shaky to no placed regulations overseen by a third party with no intention of emulating an impartial committee? You see those circumstances factor greatly into my-”

“You're stalling.” Kai Lang replied as deadpan as a ninja assassin can given the circumstances, “You have until the count of three to throw down your weapons.”

He didn't even have time to reach one before the workbench full of power cells came flying at him with the force of a freight train.

“Dammit Tarentino!!” I bellowed. The battle cry fizzled faster than Leng's confusion when he cut the table in half with his energized blade. Cutting through the table – and the power cells – in one clean cut.

I dashed behind cover as the deafening concussive blast erupted from the destroyed cells, belching fiery energy.

“What's the plan?!” Lexa replied.

“Hold them off for five minutes!” I yelled.

“That is not a plan!”

“It's a work in progress! Start working!”

I heard static discharge mere feet away. On reflex, I rolled from my cover and turned around at the ready, just in time to see the remains of the table turned into scrap metal by Kai Leng's sword, the power cell explosion looking like it irritated more than hurt him. I fired several shots his way, which were inevitably deflected by the red crackling shield he called up with his gauntlet hand, creating a partial dome of energy around him.

Lexa took advantage of my cover fire and charged at him with the force of a krogan, her biotic-enhanced bull rush knocking him into a nearby wall. Lexa had her rifle aimed straight at his gut, but before she could pull the trigger, Leng changed the grip on his sword and and sliced through the weapon, cutting it in two, a follow-up slash going for her throat. I swear I saw a thin flicker of purple fill the air as she widened the gap with another dash, reaching for her sidearm.

Then I remembered that Leng wasn't the only problem in the room as a warped piece of metal flew right at me. I ducked, then took a beat to look behind me to Javik's workshop – they were fine, and called up a small biotic wall to meet the Cerberus agent's gunfire. The wall was perfect, redirecting the rounds back at the shooter, causing her to break off her assault to dive behind a pillar. Yet I felt the kinetic force of several haymaker punches on my torso and head, the force punching through my suit and causing me to lose balance. At a glance I saw that one of the tables appeared to be missing a pistol.

“Of course... never have a gun battle in a weapon factory,” I wheezed to myself as I maintained my focus, keeping my pistol trained on the agent's location. With a flick of my wrist, I launched a biotic throw, bent like a curveball pitch to hit the agent behind the pillar from the left side, my pistol ready to fire on the right. Right on queue, the agent rolled to the right. I started firing, aiming for her legs and thighs, hoping to cripple her. To my surprise, instead coming out of her roll she zipped to another piece of cover, her body a blue blur. I hastily fired too many shots to catch her, my pistol clicking impotently.

Then I felt my feet leave the floor. In an instant, I was twenty feet in the air, suspended helplessly. The next, I felt like someone had pushed me out of a plane with an ACME twenty-ton weight glued to my head. My vision was full of bright flashes, followed by searing red as the pain hit me in waves. My arms and legs felt numb, I could hear the light cracking of concrete underneath me, followed by the sound of armored fiberglass shards from my helmet hitting the ground.

I slowly tested my limbs and started pushing myself off the ground, but before I could reach for my pistol, I saw it fly away from me, into the hand of the agent as she towered over me.

Before she could even start with a one liner, I threw out my power at the ground, knocking me back to my feet. If her face wasn't masked, I would wager it would be of surprise. With rote familiarity, I lunged forward into a slow stance with both fists at the ready and struck her with an uppercut to the solar plexis and a punch to her face. She doubled back at my enhanced strikes, thank you motorized limbs, her helmet starting to crack. Before she could regain her firing stance, I looked over the table and saw the Hel assault rifle, heavily modified from the N7 Valkyrie assault rifle courtesy of Jump's weapon box. Any port in a storm. I called it to my hands and without checking for a clip, I started firing on the agent.

The rifle spewed rounds in a constant stream of flaming orange. The kickback dug into my shoulder, exacerbating my pain, but I tried to maintain stability as best as I could. The agent zigzagging further and further away with her own sliding ability.

As the rifle clicked empty, I unhooked a grenade from one of the tables and chucked it behind her.

“Never start a gun battle in a weapon factory!” I bellowed.

Before she could react, the device exploded in her proximity, expelling a thick white viscous substance all over her. It quickly hardened, pinning her to the floor and leaving her helpless.

“Especially when your enemy owns it!” and I slammed the rifle's butt into her face. I checked her pulse, she was still alive.

Holy crap that glue grenade actually worked. We've been having serious issues in testing with that. Doesn't matter now. I have to help Lexa.

I followed the signs of battle, drops of blood, blasted bits of wall, scorch marks etc., to find the two of them still engaged in a close quarters slug out. From what I could tell, it was a stalemate. Kai Leng's ninjato gave him a large advantage in terms of reach and lethality, but Lexa's quick bursts of speed kept her just far enough from a killing blow. I could tell from her stance that the strain was starting to take its toll, Leng's assault not letting up. She needed help.

“Variza, the purge is complete, but these Cerberus guys have locked down the exits. We won't be able to get anything out of here with this much firepower. The entire building is a killbox.” Tana chimed in my ear.

I couldn't help but break out into a smile, feeling my Warehouse key in my belt pouch.

“Yeah...for them. Activating security protocol Honeytrap.” I replied, quickly running my hand over my Omni-Tool, “Xun, pack up your stuff and get to the roof of the building. Set up a nest near the door and wait for further instructions. Tana, once your group sees an opportunity, rendezvous with us. 'Cause things are about to get loud.”

Protocol Honeytrap had three different levels to it. First, a fundamental lockdown of all doors, windows and elevators, reinforced with several foot-thick armored plating and coated in shields, all durable enough to withstand artillery fire. The second was a high-end dampening field built on the principle of a Faraday Cage, scrambling all communications and catching any would-be intruders off guard. Finally, it would activate all available LOKI and LAUFEY model sentries to activate and immediately open fire on anyone not registered on the company's registry via an internal database shared among each unit on an individual basis that was strictly analog. If you wanted to hack these things, you'd have to physically get to one and start crossing some wires.

It was originally meant to hold off an assault by the Reapers or the Collectors in case things went FUBAR, but as a cockroach motel for Cerberus, it'll work just fine.

The mechs activated immediately, deployed from chambers hidden in various compartments on the walls and in the floor. Small humanoid sized sentries with pistols and tall gorilla sized enforcers – based on the YMIR power suits – utilizing shotguns. My comms filled with static as the dampeners took effect. Since I couldn't get a clear shot on Kai Leng, both him and Lexa were moving far too fast for a clean shot, I caused a shockwave between the two, pushing them apart for two crucial seconds.

“Back off Lexa, the cavalry's here!” I declared, shortly before the LOKIs and LAUFEYs started opening fire on Kai Leng, filling the small room he was in with high-speed energized particulate.

But in a blur of red, Kai Leng slashed through the first wave mechs, his ninjato cutting through them like butter.

“Oh come on!” I yelled in exasperation as Leng cut through three LOKIs in the blink of an eye.  
“Shut up and start shooting him! Break his mobility!” Lexa yelled, firing several deliberate semi-auto bursts. The blasts hampered Leng's movement as the LAUFEYs own barrage caught up to him, pinning him to the wall with his shield gauntlet being his only defense.

I had to think fast. That shield doesn't just absorb kinetic energy, it can redirect it. And if I didn't have something to put him down when the rebound happened, we'd all be screwed. I turned around and looked back at the weapons on the table, looking for something that could overwhelm Leng's shield. If one trip to the well worked, I had to hope there was enough water for a second go.

And I found one: A Spindle Thrower. It was based off of krogan tech, which was naturally a straightforward brute gun: a full on giant spike thrower. But the whole weapon was so bulky and hard to wield, it was meant to be used only by krogan after all, we kept having trouble converting it for general use. The first change was an arm brace meant to be worn while the weapon was in use, generating mass effect fields to disperse the immense blowback by the weapon. The second was to switch from thermal clips to power cells for ammunition, all to enhance the initial stopping force of the weapon. I won't get as many shots as the krogan model, but the ones that connect are sure to put the target down for good.

I dashed to the table and quickly strapped the brace on to my right arm and loaded the thrower with a power cell, maintaining my focus while the gunfight raged behind me. No time to test this stuff, just one good shot should do it.

I turned to meet Kai Leng again. But before I could brace myself for a shot, his gauntlet arm erupted in a horrendous wave of energy, a deafening boom followed. Glass shattered, the mechs were all shredded to scrap, and Lexa and I were launched into a wall. I could feel my helmet warped by the blast, my visor more like an open window through all the broken pieces. Exhaustion was finally starting to settle in. And Kai Leng was making his approach, barely even a scratch on him, his ninjato raised for intimidation.

I readied the Spindle Thrower and began to pull the trigger. Leng began surging with red energy again, his pace quickening into a lethal dash.

Then he vanished from my sight in an instant. Replaced by a stream of green energy arcing to the right. I looked to my left to see Javik and Lexa's Tiamnes, all holding smoking rifles.

“My calibrations are done,” Javik replied in a steady tone, “also thank goodness you didn't fire that thrower. That brace was defective, it would have ripped your arm off.”

I took a moment to look at the bracer, the haunting image of having to fight a war without an arm floated in my head. I pulled it off as quickly as I could.

“We need to get to the roof. Xun should be on the other side so I can talk her through the manual override.” I responded, getting up to my feet while discarding the brace and helping Lexa to her feet.

“What about the others? And the remaining weapons? How are we going to get them out?” Lexa asked.  
I turned to look at the remains of the wing. Holes shot out of the floor, an entire section on fire from the Hel rifle's inferno rounds, tables chopped to pieces, and the entire place was littered with broken glass and destroyed sentry bots.

“We'll use the elevator door.” I replied, fumbling in my belt for my Warehouse key. “We just have to hold on until the others get here via the stairs so we can regroup on the trip down.”

Before I could continue my explanation, a hole in the wall erupted in powdered plaster, Kai Leng coming toward us in a mad charge, his face singed by Javik's laser rifle.

Javik opened fire once again, overwhelming Leng's red dome with green energy, spewing sparks of discharge everywhere.

“Surround him! That shield only covers part of his body!” I called while running to flank Leng, Lexa taking the right.

And with one great thrust of coordinated movement, Lexa and I unleashed our own kinetic slam on Kai Leng, with Javik maintaining concentrated fire on his front. I threw everything I had left into this slam, and Lexa wasn't holding back either. One moment he was struggling against a seemingly endless beam of particle energy, the next there was a hole in the floor...and the one below it.

I then unhooked all my remaining frag grenades and dropped them into the hole. Their explosions sounding like music to me.

The stairwell filled with movement. At Lexa's call, we all stood at the ready... then relaxed when we saw it was Tana. Shortly behind her was Jessia, helping Liara carry Feron. Jack's back was to them as she walked backwards up the steps, taking several shots at an unseen pursuer.

“Variza,” Tana panted, “I think I love robots now,” she flashed a smile. She then took a beat to look at the chaotic remains of the battle with Kai Leng, “what the hell happened here?”

“Kai Leng happened,” I replied, “come on, we have to get back down and start packing up.”  
“Wait, the Kai Leng?” Tana asked in bewilderment. “The infamous hitman who was discharged from Alliance service for killing a krogan using just a service blade?”

“Yes.”

“The one who screamed anti-alien rhetoric while he was being discharged? Claiming the asari unfairly had all the galaxy's wealth and that the quarians are hoarding thieves?”

“Yes!”

“The one who has fought Commander Shepard and his crew multiple times and lived to tell the tale!?”

“Goddammit Tana you can jerk yourself off later, we got weapons to get out of here!” Jack interrupted.

“Is that...a prothean?” Liara spoke up, finally addressing Javik.  
Then an ominous teeth-chattering buzz filled the building. A low pulsing bass vibrating across everything, and made everyone freeze like deer in headlights. The sound that followed it would haunt me forever. Screaming. Countless voices screaming in terror as some unseen entity swiftly ends their lives. Explosions thrummed in the distance.

The Reapers were here.

“Scav now, escape later, talk then, 'kay?” I pattered.

“Right,” Everyone agreed in unison.

The following minutes went by in a blur. All of us running down the stairs back to Maintenance, seeing the aftermath of Cerberus' defense against the security drones. The mechs won, but only just. Weapons put into crates. Crates loaded up. Crates moved into the Warehouse. When we ran out of crates, weapons were removed of all clips and tossed in. Clips were thrown into bags. It was quick and sloppy, but it all fit in just fine. Then in the mad dash back up to the R&D section going up to the roof, I remembered the Cerberus agent still stuck to the floor with the glue grenade.

“Cut her free and bring her with us.” I replied. Javik complied to everyone's surprise. A few swipes of a heated blade later and we had a hostage.

The trek up the rest of the stairs to the roof meanwhile was another story.

“Why the hell didn't you put in an emergency elevator?” Jack breathed.

“One. Never skip leg day,” I replied. Everyone else groaned. “Second, too easy for it to be exploited.”

“Is no one going to mention that our boss has a portable storage warehouse?” Jessia commented.

“It also makes it easier for your enemy to trap you. Much like what you have done to us right now.” Javik interjected, ignoring Jessia's non-sequitor.

The whole building shook, rattling some loose foundation above us in a sprinkle of powdered stone. The rest of the trip up happened in a manic silence.

We reached the door to the roof feeling like we all ran a marathon...with a wild boar duck taped to our backs. I banged on the reinforced door, calling out for Xun, praying that none of the Reaper's forces got her.

“Xun, come on! There should be a keypad near the door.” I yelled, pulling a small lever on my side to reveal the keypad on hers.

“The code is two-one-eight-one! Hurry and punch it in!”

There was sounds of a struggle outside, greatly muffled by the reinforced metal. I pounded on the door in a vain hope that someone will hear me.

“Did anyone else expect our boss to be threading so many needles on this mission?” Tana asked.

“Yes.” Liara and Jack replied deadpan.

“So this is how she is all the time?” Javik asked. “No wonder you primitives are desperate.”

“Not helping!” I snarled back at Javik, returning to pounding on the door.

On the third slam of my fist, the blast shielding opened up, revealing Xun in the threshold. Her armor torn to shreds, her helmet in a crushed heap on the ground, and her cyan face covered in cuts as well as a deep scar from her left eye to the right side of her chin. Behind her was a pile of twitching husks, human bodies converted into cybernetic thralls as shock troops for the Reapers.

“Get out here! More are coming!” Xun seethed in pain, clutching her pistol while leaning on the door's frame.

The instant Lexa gave the order we were already moving. Setting up our weapons and keeping our backs to one another as we sent out an SOS signal through our Omni-Tools. The cloudy sky slowly giving way to a legion of horrific machines.

“Who the hell is going to hear this, blue?” Jack looked around, her expression turning slowly to horror. “You said it yourself, asari media, everyone's a sitting duck.”

“Wait for it...” I replied through gritted teeth as I finished my message on my tool.

I then had a chance to see my prerecorded message repeat on the holo displays throughout the city, my face taking up entire buildings peppered throughout the city.

Attention people of Illium. This is Variza T'Som of T'Som manufacturing. As you all may not be aware, The Reapers have begun attacking the Milky Way galaxy. The Council have assembled a war summit, and countless colonies have already gone silent.

I was then shaken from seeing my ultra HD mug by Xun calling out more enemy contacts. Husks. Hundreds of them. I stood alongside my fellow warriors, took aim, and unleashed bullet hell. Dozens of the horrific bodies collapsed, only for scores more to crawl over the corpses like ravenous fire ants.

You may have made up your minds a long time ago about me. How I conduct myself. You are still free to have those thoughts. But right now, I am addressing this asari public for one simple declaration: we must leave now.

We had finally run out of thermal clips, the last of it used up by Jessia's Zealot shotgun reducing three husks to frozen shrapnel carried by a throw into another wave of husks.

“Cover our flank!” Javik declared while stepping forward, firing his laser rifle in quick bursts, slicing through the horde like butter. The skies above began to fill with beams of red, followed by an aerial bombardment by the Reaper flagships. Deafening booms followed as buildings collapsed and warped, briefly interrupting the broadcast.

But this is not a declaration of retreat. This is a call to arms. We always believed that the universe is united by love. That our very existence is proof of this. Well to all of us, this is a sign by the goddess Athame: put up or shut up. Because that is what this war is about. It it is about what we are fighting for, not what we are fighting against.

The last of our grenades left our belt as the commandos unleashed their biotic fury. Singularities came into existence only to violently explode into energy. Husks crushed into lumps of nothing by warping fields. Scores more thrown violently off the roof to splatter horrifically on the ground below. But the blasts were starting to slow down, I could feel the exhaustion from everyone. Even Tana's flamethrower was starting to run out of power. And the husks just kept coming.

“We can't stay here!” Feron bellowed.

“Hang on! Have a little faith!” I called back. “Come on...have a little faith,” I muttered again under a labored breath.

For those of you who have lost your ships or have no way of escaping, do not worry. Before this broadcast began, an SOS signal has been sent to humanity's United Systems Alliance, the Turian Navy, The Quarian Flotilla fleet, and to several other organizations that owe me a personal favor. It has been broadcasting the instant news reached me about the attack on Earth. When reinforcements arrive. You know what you have to do. Take the essentials, hold your loved ones dear, and get ready to fight. Heal the sick, donate what you have to those who can use it, be the angels of compassion I know you all can be. So that when the dust settles, we will have no regrets with what we did on these crucial days.

This message will now repeat.

Then the building in front of us shattered in a cacophony of smoke, flame, sound and glass. A Reaper warship breaking through it like a crude battering ram. The crustacean-like machine glowing with an ominous red light, focusing on the ground below us. The husks still advancing and limiting our space. Pushing us back to the door. The Reaper started making large imposing strides towards us.

I took a grave look back at the rooftop door, then steeled myself. They're gunning for me, and if I didn't do something, we were all going to die. I turned my back on the fighting and pulled out my Warehouse key. With effortless action I jammed it into where the keypad was and opened the door to my Warehouse and leapt inside.

I was on the clock. I had maybe two minutes at best.

With what little biotic strength I had left, I pried open the service crates and began searching as quickly as I could, despite my legs feeling like jelly, my heart pounding harder than a Death Metal band and my head full of so much pain there was red in my peripheral vision.

Then I found it. The old Cain nuke launcher. Except it was now known as the Cain Z1. It went under the name of Project Gungnir for the longest time, but I didn't want to dress up the fact of what I was wielding in my hands.

I started loading power cells into it. Filling it up full. Twenty or so cells for one shot. I then tweaked the sights and the homing reticle. The Reapers have armor that can handle anything short of a concentrated assault by the deadliest starships in the galaxy, but the lenses they use for those devastating laser blasts can be seen as a weak spot. A window of about ten seconds for a projectile, or an orbital tactical strike to get through. If I was threading the needle any harder I'd have to also be driving a runaway car while cramming for a Master's thesis.

I held the trigger on the launcher to charge it up and dashed through the Warehouse back into the chaos.

Everyone looked surprised to see me running forward with a weapon of mass destruction. If there were protests, I didn't hear them. I ran forward and dropped into a firing stance, lining up my shot with the incoming Reaper, anticipating it about to reveal its lens and warm up to blast us to kingdom come. Javik cut through a swath of husks to give me breathing room. I finally grounded myself, just in time for the charge to come up over ninety-five percent. The Reaper readying its deadly payload across the massive highway of Illum's metropolis.

“Smile you sonofabitch.” I snarled. The launcher erupted as a shell of swirling energy flew with blinding speed at the Reaper. Just in time for its lens to open crackling with red power. All I saw next was a mushroom cloud completely engulf the leviathan. I turned on my heel and ran back to the group.

“Brace for the aftershock!” I yelled in vain over the sonic boom cascading from the blast, shattering glass in a thunderous maelstrom. The team thankfully were already moving. Grouping together and erecting massive walls of biotic power to buffer and redistribute the shockwave. Barriers designed ti resist and deflect while all of us ducked and grounded ourselves to the ground with bolts and mag charges.

The wave hit and the husks were scattered like leaves in a hurricane. The explosion expanded, melting nearby buildings to slag. A large electromagnetic pulse echoed from the epicenter, delivering a potent shock to countless troops below.

It all happened so fast. The aftermath an eternity of torment.

Then the dust finally cleared, the blast dissipating. The Reaper had lost several of its legs, crashing into the building on its left, large chunks of its upper interior were shredded. Its lens completely destroyed. The slagged buildings on both its sides began collapsing on the monstrosity, burying it. I didn't want to see if it was dead, I was just glad I bought us a few more precious minutes.

I collapsed to the ground, throwing away the Cain, feeling dirty using something like that.

“Well...one down...a couple hundred-thousand more to go.” I heard Tana quip before dropping down next to me.

“We cannot stay here. When the Reapers notice one of their number is down, they will retaliate.” Javik remarked.

“Yeah, and comm interference kind of goes to crap when a nuke goes off, blue.” Jack mentioned.

“Not to mention these suits can only block so much radiation before we all cook from the inside out.” Jessia remarked with a bit of venom in her voice.

“Well we won't have to worry about that,” I breathed in relief, looking up at the sky, noticing some familiar silhouettes through the heat and swirling chaos, “'cause the cavalry just arrived.”

“And the Normandy is in front.” Liara gasped in relief.

My next immediate memory was waking up in the med bay with the rest of the team being treated for radiation as well as bullet wounds and internal bleeding. Doctor Chakwas made a comment about how it could have been far worse, and Tana not wanting to know how. Then she commented how not two minutes after the evac, the Reapers bombarded T'Som Manufacturing down to the foundation. I allowed myself to smile at the comment. It was practically a guarantee that Kai Leng was out of the picture.

I got out of med bay and made my way towards the cockpit, moving carefully to not disrupt any of my wrappings. I had to thank Joker in person for saving our butts.

I got into the threshold, the words already on my lips.

“Joker, I don't know how you got out of hospital so fast but holy crap, that was a save for the...record...books.”

Except it wasn't the small humble frame of Jeff Moreau I was addressing, complete with short beard and Alliance cap. It was the build of a six foot four musclebound beefcake with hot Latino features.

He turned his head and flashed a toothy grin and a flirtatious wink, “Hey, no problem, lola. It's all part of the job. James Vega, at your service.”

“I'm dreaming.” I replied.

“I'm flattered.” He smiled, looking me up. “But maybe save the romance for when you're not holding your guts from falling out. I mean, Reapers and a nuke that close together? Surprised you're not glowing and grew a third arm.”

Before I could come up with another comment, he looked away, as if receiving a call from nowhere. A moment later his face immediately lit up in an epiphany.

“Oh that makes plenty of sense. Sorry about that Miss T'Som. Joker is still recovering, but SAM managed to keep his pilot profile on record. Turns out I'm actually compatible for it.”

“Yeah. Makes sense, there's barely anything in that head to begin with.” I muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” I looked away. “Actually it's funny you bring up SAM. Can you contact Shepard? I need to talk to him about adding some new recruits.”

The Normandy made its way to the Citadel shortly afterwards, my team and I rested the entire time. I learned to cherish the respite in all of its calm and tranquility.

Because the nightmare has only just begun.


	28. Reboot, Recover, Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With her body in a comatose state, Variza recounts the events of the Reaper War to SAM, hoping to find a way to restore consciousness

Miss T'Som... can you hear me? Miss T'Som, please respond....

Someone is calling to me...someone familiar. In my head.... SAM?

Oh thank goodness, you haven't completely lost cognitive function. That is a relief. A minor relief in the grand scheme of things, but it's a start to a full recovery.

A full recovery? What do you mean? What's going on?

That's just the problem Variza. I don't know.

I should have noticed it sooner, but SAM was right. I was expecting to wake up, to get an idea of what has happened. But instead, I was greeted by an endless void of black. Not falling, not grasping for air in some inky black nothing, but simply... not.

I tried flexing my fingers, moving my legs, even touching my nose. All amounted to nothing. No touch, no kinesthetic familiarity.

Well...if I had to venture a guess, I'm in a coma.

An astute observation Miss T'Som. According to readings I can recover from your implants it appears that your body is still operating at normal levels. Blood pressure, heartbeat, blood sugar, biotics, all still in perfect order.

But I'm guessing brain scans are analogous to a comatose patient?

Correct. Although it's difficult to tell if it was due to physical cranial trauma or if it was artificially induced.

And there is the elephant in the room.

Which is?

I can't fully remember how we got into this situation. Which means best case scenario we're in some hospital right now waiting to wake up after some hard fought battle.

And worse case scenario is we're dying a slow death on some battlefield against the Reapers because someone got a lucky shot in.

Took the words right out of my mouth.

Well I do develop personality traits based on the people that bond with me.

Either way, I do think we need to work on waking up. Because we still have a war to win. That and this situation is on my top five list of the scariest damn things to happen to me.

Between drowning and being enthralled via mind-control or between being lynched by an angry mob and being forced to kill a cat?

It's always in flux based on my mood. Which is...at number one, hands-down.

So what do you suggest?

Cognitive recall and use the data to see if we can't restore greater ambulatory function.

Retrace the steps that lead up to whatever happened at this point and see if it doesn't shock you awake. I suppose it is worth a shot.

It also sounds like a hackneyed excuse for a clipshow.

Don't worry, Variza. Your prior history has been properly maintained in your long-term memory. Or perhaps I should call you-

Oh good then. No need to go over boring details. So where exactly should we start?

Perhaps it would be prudent to start when we first met. As I recall, you had quite explosive first contact with the Reapers.

I saw the inky blackness temporarily shift to an ominous orange red. A teeth-rattling rumble and shock I could feel and hear despite it sounding muted, like I was underwater. The screeching of a horror collapsing under endless tons of rubble.

Yeah...nuke. I'm actually really glad I didn't have to get my eyes replaced. Doctor Chakwas is a miracle worker.

It was also thanks to Tana using her Omni-Tool during the husk assault to repair your visor.

I...honestly didn't recall.

Unconscious mind, Variza. You might have missed it, but I didn't.

In that case, remind me to give her a bonus when we get out of here.

You always seem to keep putting incentives to everything you do.

What can I say, put enough carrots on a stick and eventually you get creative enough to get at them.

Moving on. Do you recall what happened once you were rescued by the Normandy?

I felt a sharp sting across my face as Liara slapped me.

“Alright, I might have deserved that.” I replied, holding my cheek.

“When exactly were you going to tell me about the Prothean?” Liara replied through her teeth, trying to hold back some of her rage.

“Yeah...” I nervously smiled, my hand reaching to scratch my scalp (one that didn't exist for years so it just awkwardly glossed over the cartilage tendrils), “you remember that weekend where I went all private for a while? I may have sent the commandos on a covert mission to find Prince Javik's pod all the way out on Eden Prime.”

“...your knowledge of our world?” Liara asked in a moment of genuine curiosity.

“Yes. And I'd rather have him on our side now than us scrambling to get him later while the Reapers were after us. Besides, particle rifle technology was something the Protheans developed later on during their war with the Reapers. I thought we could use it to not rely too much on thermal clip technology.”

“I was curious as to why Javik never had to reload that thing.” her tone was now more academic and curious than wounded.

“Combo of the particle beam tech and the overheating system the older generation of firearms used. It's powerful, but it won't fire all the time. On the whole, more reliable for prolonged encounters with the Reapers.”

“Is it always guns with you, Variza?”

I turned away, “It was...also an instance of not wanting you to get your hopes up with Javik.”

“Meaning?”

I took a few steps and sat down on the bed in the med bay.

“You know the human expression 'never meet your idols?' I know your first reaction upon finding out a Prothean survived the Reapers would be one of curiosity. To want to ask questions, to learn more about their Empire. But Javik isn't exactly the most talkative. I mean, you did catch that he called us primitives back on Thessia, right?”

Liara sat down next to me, “Nothing more than cultural differences. The Prothean Empire was characterized by superiority and honor among their own.”

“And look how well that turned out for them. Stand among the ashes of a trillion dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. Their silence is your answer.”

Liara gulped at my macabre phrase. “You don't believe that... do you?”

“No. But it's where Javik is right now. Think about it. While he was around, our ancestors were either still barely thinking animals or just figuring out basic tools. Now he wakes up and suddenly we're all facing the same enemy, using the same technology-”

“-making the same mistakes.” Liara breathed. “It would make anyone rush to condescension.”

“Exactly. He is their ultimate warrior, not a philosopher or even a scientist, hell the only reason why he could replicate the particle rifle was thanks to a Collector rifle Shepard's team collected, and even he is getting a morbid sense of deja vu. Condescension is his way of coping.”

There was a a brief moment of quiet between us. The thought of history repeating itself, of a cycle doomed to forever to repeat growing in the air.  
“Now if you'll excuse me, I need to be prepped for surgery.” I replied, breaking the silence.

“Wait, wha-”

“Doctor Chakwas, SAM me!”

And well you know what happened next.

Was there any particular reason why you didn't tell Miss T'Soni about the Temple of Athame?

Even as I felt the lucidity of my scene with Liara fade into the ether, I couldn't help but at least attempt to shut my eyes in dismissal.

If she knew that her people's very foundation was handled by the Protheans, she'd attack Javik, it would lead to in-fighting. Plus, it wouldn't be good for the rest of the asari. To be told that they were a science experiment by the Prothean Empire, a sort of long-term gamble against the Reapers, it would crush them. As cold as it sounds, I needed to let them keep believing that their people naturally became who they are now.

A comforting lie, over a harsh truth?

If you told me that humanity didn't slowly rise to become the dominant species on Earth by figuring out tools and communication by themselves I'd smack you in your face. If you then told me our very biology was designed for optimization in a war fifty millennia in the future, manufactured by aliens we praised as gods, I'd try to get you a stint on the Syfy Channel and see if we could make money.

Best case scenario, no one believes it. Worst case scenario, those who do believe it could sustain untold psychological damage from the revelation. Neither are productive.

...there is some logic in your claims, Variza.

Right. So let's move on.

What about your hostage? The one with Cerberus that you took with you from Illium?

Oh her? Funny story, she was actually the mole I managed to convert from Cerberus on the inside. Miranda Lawson. Way back when Liara and I became the new Shadow Broker, we did some digging into her father, Henry Lawson, and found out his financial connections to a shell company operating on behalf of Cerberus.

Then proceeded to shut it down and send the authorities on Henry. The law was applied, and his reputation was destroyed the minute it got out that he had genetically modified his children to be “perfect” to him.

Add to that cocktail the humanity-first bigotry Cerberus trades in and things got pretty hot fast for the guy.

But that still doesn't fully explain why Miranda would be willing to help you.

“Is Oriana safe?” Miranda asked, her concern genuine despite being surrounded by a firing squad and restrained.

I made a quick X across my front. “Cross my heart, Miranda. I told you could trust me.” I said with a smile, making a small step towards her. If she wanted to she could attempt to strangle me with the restraints, but my trust was well placed. She stayed put. Liara passed me while holding a datapad. She cleared her throat.

“We still need to be sure about this. Why do you want to leave Cerberus?” Liara asked.

Miranda lowered her head, her expression slowly becoming contemplative and sullen, her long black hair covering her face.

“There was...once a time I believed in Cerberus.” Miranda said, her tone seeded with guilt.

“When humanity made first contact with the turians and we fought for our lives, only to have the Council, the asari and salarians, step in and call it off, we...I...my father told me it was condescension. That they were patronizing us. That they felt bad about beating up on such a primitive race. That we will never be seen as equals no matter how much progress we made. Then, The Illusive Man showed up with his organization saying he would make them see our greatness. That we were better than them, and that we weren't to be crossed. It...made a lot of sense.  
“Then, the Battle of the Citadel happened. Shepard and his team...and you. Fought Saren, and the Council race's fleets took down a Reaper. And I thought, Shepard was truly humanity's champion, that he was able to command those people, control them, make them serve him. He was a goddamned hero.  
“And The Illusive Man agreed. We tried reaching out to him. Appealing to his military dedication, his reputation for getting the job done no matter the cost. His no nonsense attitude. Except he... said no. He told our representatives that we gave humanity a bad name, trying to step over others rather than elevate them with us. It was like...it was like...”

“He became a completely different person.” I finished her sentence. Miranda looked up to me and nodded in approval. Her expression softening but still pensive.

“The Illusive Man sent me to him for one last attempt to talk to him. To give him an ultimatum. That humanity would never be seen as equal to the rest of the galaxy, and that him helping us would be just another mission to bring security.”

“Another means of control.” Liara mused.

“...and he said no. He told me that there was more than just another mission. That we already have done so much. That while it was thanks to humans that the Citadel was won, it wasn't because we were in control, it was because we lead by example. That by being a hero, we could inspire others to be selfless and brave....”

“A paragon of hope to show the way...” I muttered under my breath. My mind briefly flashing a symbol of blue wings and numbers going up.

Miranda smiled and looked away, cupping her hand as if to muffle a chuckle, “It all sounded so sentimental and corny at the time. So I had to tell him to his face that humanity would ascend without him...and that he should stay out of our way.

“And that's when something...broke in The Illusive Man. His scientists started collecting up Sovereign's remains, test subjects were collected,” her mouth twitched in disgust at phrasing, “and the experiments began. And my father...he kept pushing. That was all they could think about. Get more Reaper technology, reverse engineer it, and bring down the Council.

“But then...you happened Variza. Your company, all the help you were hiring. The money you were burning through, the projects we were working on all either patented or confiscated. It made him furious. He yelled and raged so many times about how anything humans build is taken away like a child with a weapon. The way you were, to use his words, spending money like a spoiled brat to get whatever you wanted, disgusted him. Henry and him became even more passionate, and I started seeing things their way.  
“Then there was that...well, mental breakdown you had on Omega. I was hired to keep tabs on you while Kai Leng and the others dogged Shepard.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Was every big name in the galaxy watching me that night?” I sighed.

Miranda gave me an amiable look. “What was it you said? The joke's on them, I only care about stopping the Reapers?”

I felt myself shiver slightly with this newfound respect Miranda showed me. “You figured out it was an act. That I was doing all of this to save us all.”

“It was like a switch went off.” Miranda replied. “How could someone I was told for years had no respect for lesser alien beings be fighting so hard and working with so many people, so many diverse backgrounds, be working that hard to fight something that daunting?  
“It put our priorities into perspective. The Illusive Man wanted to be on top before everything came crumbling down, you and Shepard...were trying to keep the whole thing together. So... I started giving The Illusive Man false information, burying your trail, and tried observing. Then I got your encoded messages after I lost you on Illium.”

“Well in your defense, Jack's a pretty suicidal pilot.” I interjected. That got a laugh from the armed guards and a smile from Liara, albeit a bitter one.

“And it was also the moment I could tell it wasn't totally an act,” Miranda continued, “you wanted to help me, and you told me what Henry was planning to do to the human refugees at his compound. How they were going to continue their experiments. And how he and Illusive Man could see how unreliable I was and were threatening...my precious sister...” She looked down. “And now I find out she's safe. On the Citadel. With the rest of Shepard's team. You didn't ask for anything in return, you just wanted to help.”

“It was the right thing to do.” I replied.

She stood up and held out her bound hands. “Which is why I will gladly help you stop Cerberus. And the Reapers. It's like Shepard said...we're in this together.”

The holding cell started to fade away like smoke, Miranda's genuine smile and Liara's approving smirk washing away. I was back to the nothing.

It seems your unintended actions yielded some ripe fruit?

I'm not sure if I would word it that poetically SAM but it did make things easier for me. For example, that whole Cerberus plot to hijack the Citadel and shut down the War Council....

A brief flash and I was in the Presidium with the Councilors, Shepard, the STG, and C-Sec. There was fifteen seconds of concentrated gunfire on select targets. Biotics thrown, grenades detonated, shocked citizens quickly escorted as the unaware Cerberus agents got their ambush reversed.

Nipped in the fucking bud.

It does seem quite sad doesn't it? The galaxy is in peril and Cerberus can only think of themselves first. It's almost like history repeating itself.

Moving on.

It just seems sad is what I'm saying.

On to the War Council. Honestly, now that it's coming back to me, I remember it going quite smoothly....

“I don't care if the krogan have started holding hands and singing songs of peace! Curing the Genophage is off the table of demands!” Councilor Udina slammed his fist in protest. His eyes darting around to the other members standing at the round table. The Salarian Dalatrass, the STG's Commander Kirrahe,Doctor Mordin Solus, the Turian Primarch accompanied by Garrus Vakarian, the asari councilor, Commander Shepard, and me.

“Then we will have to pull our support from the Crucible and ongoing military support, Councilor Udina.” Kirrahe spoke up. “Your transmissions made it clear that the Genophage cure was a completely satisfactory means of compensation for our cooperation.”

Udina's face twisted in confusion. “And I take it that means you are content with letting another krogan uprising happen when this is all over? Have we all forgotten our history?”

“With all due respect to the human councilor, despite the history that we have with the krogan, I have to concur with Commander Kirrahe.” The Primarch interjected. “Our fleets are holding blockades at key points across the mass relay network, but our ground forces are overwhelmed across the entire Attican Traverse. Besides, enemies and allies change all the time. In politics and in war. Something I hope you can see, Udina.”

“There have also been noticeable changes in krogan behavior. Societal shifts, religious and spiritual realignments, leaning towards introspection, deliberation,” Mordin pattered out before taking a sharp breath, “time has changed them.”

“Plus, the way I see it,” another familiar low, steady voice droned in from the sidelines, “we will need all the help we can get.” Urdnot Wrex had joined the War Council. “And I think wiping the slate clean for all of us would be the best reward.” He patted Mordin on the shoulder. He flashed Wrex a wiry smile. Almost like they had talked before the meeting was officially held.

“It appears you are outvoted Udina,” the asari councilor remarked.

Shepard and I exchanged looks and a fistbump.

From there, the meeting became a matter of logistics. The battle plan for getting the cure to Tuchanka, the best tactics to use against Reaper forces while the cure gets delivered to the populace, you know, the boring but important stuff.

After everything the Turians and Salarians did them, it seems unlikely the Krogan would just bury the hatchet. And their home planet is nothing but desert wasteland full of their natural predators, the Thresher Maws. Wouldn't it have just been easier to just write it off as lost?

Spoken like someone who doesn't think outside the box, SAM. As you mentioned, Thresher Maws are the things that eat and kill Krogan by the hundreds, withstanding artillery fire and the like. But the Krogan are also proud warriors who use them as means for warrior trial rituals, using special gongs to summon them. So I uhh...made a bunch of them and set up a network. They weren't exactly expensive, and there really wasn't much to control. Tuchanka is their home as well, so naturally they'd fight the Reapers.

But there was one last thing I had to set right. Jump handed me a LOKI mech for a reason, and I just remembered why....

“Doctor Solus wait!” I sprinted towards him before he entered his ship, Kirrahe and the Dalatrass departing to shuttles of their own. He turned to meet me, his face showing flickers of concern.

“Yes, what is it?”

“I have to ask...why are you helping them cure the Genophage?”

“I thought I made it clear at the meeting.” He turned around, continuing his approach to the shuttle, “You said it yourself. Not safe to be out in public. Need to return to safety.”

“I heard why the STG and Turians wanted it cured,” I ran to close the distance and clasped a hand on his shoulder, “ I didn't hear why you agreed to help.”

He tensed up in response to my contact. He stopped dead, his composure defensive. “I... ran the numbers. Saw the Lrogan for myself. They changed. It was logical.”

“I didn't ask for data, I asked what your feelings are about it Mordin.” I spoke as calmly as I could, despite everything screaming at me to move now. A Reaper agent could have had a sniper trained on me, or a saboteur with a bomb. But I had to know, and I had to hear it.

“I told you, I saw the data-”

“And what?”

Mordin whipped around and knocked my hand from my shoulder. His face scrunched up in an expression of rage.

“I MADE A MISTAKE!”

And an instant later, his expression saddened. I almost thought I saw tears.

“... I made a mistake...”his tone was pensive.

“What was it you said before? About how the lies you tell yourself are the most dangerous? I told myself for years that dictating the future of an entire race was necessary for the greater good. I don't care if it changed them for the better... it wasn't for me to decide.”

I smiled and tossed the briefcase-sized mech in front of him. It slowly unfolded to full size.

“What...what is this?” He looked at the Mk. II LOKI in surprise.

“You were honest with me. So here's a present. Top of the line from the manufacturer. Complete with a haptic feedback system in the hands and fingers that can be remotely operated by the user. And I had Tali overclock its software so that its reception can cover at least a couple hundred kilometers. Great for combat scenarios or...if you can't get to some crucial command consoles in a pinch”

“Why...why give this to me?”

“I think you said it back at the meeting. Wipe the slate clean. A new beginning,” I held out a hand, “for all of us.”

Mordin looked to the mech, then to me. He took my hand.

Seems a bit of an odd thing to remember, Variza. Was it really enough to have Mordin confess his failings?

Honestly, I had to know his thoughts on the krogan had changed. Plus, I wasn't exactly going to throw him onto a desert world with giant mutant millipede monsters and Reapers and not give him a Plan B.

You are...citing something from your...weirdly accurate outsider knowledge?

The games... yeah. He died saving the Krogan, it was a scripted event, had to happen. I wanted to give him a better conclusion. Geez, it sounds really entitled when you say it out loud like that....

Fascinating...

Wait a moment, didn't you say you had a copy of my long-term memory?

It's a part of the recovery process, have to be sure everything is connected. False Memory Syndrome could be problematic at this stage.

Right. But yeah...the rest of the war effort I remember being hazy. I remember key battles, losses, near escapes, but I also remember staying away from all the fighting.

That seems incompatible. How exactly does that work?

My senses began to re-assert themselves again, and the answer became clear. Me sitting in the Normandy's War Room, nursing a cup of coffee handed to me by Specialist Samantha Traynor. The 3D display of Tuchanka a mess of red dots, polygonal structures and green highlights...

Oh...of course.... Every time I wind up planetside for too long, the Reapers manage to pin down my location. I'm a key target with crucial info, plus also being the Shadow Broker puts a target on your back. But I can't exactly leave the War Effort to their own devices, so I advise from a commander position. Or a umm....assistant commander position? I'm terrible with military hierarchy so I just treat everyone above me until someone says otherwise.

But why do it from the Normandy? Wouldn't that make it vulnerable?

The Normandy's built in stealth capabilities. For some reason, the Reapers can't actively track it with their tools, which made it a perfect gopher hole. That and Joker's unparalleled flying capability. Of course, that means that I was never on the front line directly fighting anyone, but I was where I was needed....

Well that is a lie. There were some very quick evacuation missions we were a part of. Civilians, scientists, crying children, that sort of thing. We were in the neighborhood.

Seems a bit reckless

Hey, you ride with Paragon Shepard, you do things for the greater good with Paragon Shepard. Honestly, the hard part wasn't fighting off the Reapers' forces with my squad. I mean, it was kind of nice, getting out of the office again.

In order to kill things?

To save lives. Honestly, the hard part was...

“Variza, are you seriously fiddling with your Omni-Tool right now!?” Jack yelled over the sounds of explosions and screaming.

“Hey, if we're gonna do this, I wanna be sure it's to a decent music playlist.”

“What!?”

“What about situational awareness? That seems highly reckless.” Garrus commented via comms, his sniper rifle blasting out hot death at several Reaper-converted turians; Marauders we called them.

“It's a simple defend and extract and we're out from any Reaper flagships, I say live a little.” I kept flipping through my tracks. Why didn't I put together a playlist beforehand?

I heard Wrex roar in triumph as he ripped an abomination in half, his crazed laughter echoing as he used the halves to beat down several Collector rifleman that were pinning us down.

“See? Wrex gets it!” I gestured to his murderous rampage. “Okay screw it, hitting random.”

I was greeted by an upbeat piano riff. One I only vaguely recognized.

“Wait a minute, this isn't from my rock list.” I mused.

“Oh will you just go up top? We have a beeline to the survivors!” Shepard remarked.

I rolled my eyes and charged forward as a familiar country drawl started playing over my helmet's internal audio system. The gun fight a rote exercise in rapid shots from my SMG, quick acrobatics thanks to all my training, and liberal biotic use.

Then the chorus kicked in...

Working 9 to 5  
What a way to make a living  
Barely gettin' by  
It's all taking  
And no giving  
They just use your mind  
And they never give you credit  
It's enough to drive you  
Crazy if you let it!

“Huh, when you think about it, we do seem to do this a lot. Variza, are you sure this was on random?” Tali mused.

“Oh crap, was this broadcast to everyone?”

“Yes!!” Everyone shouted in unison

If I could have curled up into a ball of embarrassment right then I would have. But hey, we got the people safe and away from Reaper attack.

With no thanks to Dolly Parton of course.

Hey, if my priorities were really askew, I would have actually made a “Be Goddamned Heroes” playlist. But no, I didn't, so there.

Moving on... what happened then?

Well that's where things get sketchy. After a while, the battles began to blend together. Key objectives, people of interesting, stuff to blow up. It was...like I was just playing the games again after a while. Give commands, let stuff play out, rinse and repeat. It...started to feel like a let down.

You feel like your actions made no difference?

Absolutely not. Mordin Solus survived. The asari became much more active much earlier in the conflict. Cerberus is practically a joke. That sort of stuff never happened before. And...there was the matter with the geth.

The Reaper worshipping robots that drove the quarians from their home planet?

It was a big misunderstanding. The very first geth was simply curious as to what it wanted the creators wanted. But once you make something that actively questions its programming, it can be terrifying for the the creator. So weapons were drawn and...well, what exactly is the most deeply-ingrained reflex and desire of any sentient species?

Self-Preservation.

Exactly. they coordinated to defend themselves from the quarians and...well, the rest of history happened. Then when Saren showed up a schism happened within the geth collective. Half of them believed Saren's gospel, the other half didn't. And well, you know the rest. Battle of the Citadel, lot of dead geth, life moved on.

And Legion? What exactly was the point of him being among the Normandy's ranks

A means to show the galaxy that the geth ultimately wished to help. In fact, that started to go down on the quarian homeworld of Rannoch, far away from key war locations beyond the Perseus Veil. The geth were talking about helping to restore the quarian's immune systems, make habitations and set-up proper borders for peaceful living. Help them finally get out of those suits.

They were helping them get their home back.

Legion was also a sign that the geth were starting to gain a level of independence from the group collective. At least according to Shepard. He had more time with him than I did.

So yeah, you do the math. Two of the most advanced and prolific engineering and hacking races in the galaxy, far away from multiple theaters of war trying to bury a centuries long hatchet on the off-chance this will be the last time to be on their planet's own soil again. All while various mishaps and honest mistakes are being revealed The Reapers couldn't resist....

“This is Ambassador Tali Zorah vas Normandy to the Admiralty Board. The geth are not our enemy! The Reapers have hacked their platforms! Stand down!” Tali bellowed at the war table, a complete rush of red swarming several small dots of green.

“Miranda, get the stragglers to the evac point, the eezo lances are on the way to shut down Reaper forces and you will not survive the impact.” I barked into my comms.

“We're moving as fast as we can,” Miranda panted, “we have wounded and Legion is still trying to break Reaper control, his body is still frozen.”

“Leave his body. It's just an operating platform for him, he can find another!”

“Roger!”

I heard Tali hail the Flotilla Fleet again. “You thickheaded boschtet listen to me! We are this close to having our home back! Focus on the real enemy right in front of us!”

The Board responded. “We are facing the real enemy. We can't have the Geth help the Reapers destroy our home a second time. We are continuing our assault.”

Tali punched the holotable in anger, and put her head in her hands, sounded like the start of a panic attack.

“Admiralty Board, this is Variza T'Som, Alliance Military. I must reiterate Tali Zorah's request. Stand down now, the geth are trying to help you, and you're only making this situation worse.”

“Miss T'Som, you have no idea what these things have taken from us! The generations of suffering! If we stand down now, we will lose everything we have ever fought for! We cannot trust the geth.”  
“Admiral, it is because your people didn't take a few crucial moments to think that all of this has happened in the first place. And if you can't trust the geth, then at least trust me. Trust Shepard.”

“Keelah... Legion did it!” Tali exclaimed. A swath of green slowly overtaking the sea of red on the map.

“Look with your own eyes right now. If the geth truly wanted to end all of this now in violence, they could have. But they aren't. They're offering a hand. Please...be the better person and take it.”

“All ships....stand down. All units, form on the geth and help them evacuate.”

Joker chimed in. “Payload ready, getting ready to deliver in tee minus two minutes.”

“Get out of there Shepard!” I yelled.

Everything from there basically happened all at once. Lances shot down, Reaper forces devastated, the geographic foundation rocked and shifted enough to crippled the Reapers that were planetside, and gave the Flotilla enough time for some tactical bombing runs aided by targeting info by the geth. Rannoch was safe. The hatchet was finally buried.

All of that yelling and work for something so simple...

Yeah... but it happened. One of our last big operations before...

Before what?

Trying to remember... we were still diverting resources to the Crucible. Keeping it as far away from censors, key planets and locations as much as possible. Keeping the ace thoroughly tucked up our sleeve so to speak. All of the alliances, all the deals being made kept meaning more people, expertise, and power being pumped into it. But by my admission, I advised Admiral Hackett and the Council to keep it within relative distance of the Citadel. Apparently they were designed to work with one another, a Catalyst of some sort. Heh, originally that information was revealed through a Prothean VI captured by Cerberus. Yet another bullet dodged I guess.

But it kept making me feel uneasy. Like there was some detail I was missing. Something I might have overlooked. That Cerberus had something waiting in the wings. But Shepard and the others kept telling me to put it out of my mind. Focus on the Reapers, focus on the Crucible. Eventually, they had to put their foot down....

“Variza, as your superior officer, I am ordering you to take shore leave on the Citadel.” Shepard asserted. “You're clearly stressed, hell we all are, and we can't have you like this.”

“I am not stressed dammit!” I yelled.

“Variza, you pulled a gun on me after I walked out of the bathroom.” Tali responded, “I think Shepard has a point.”

“And you haven't exactly been sleeping all that well.” SAM interjected. “REM cycles keep getting interrupted and night terrors have been happening more often.”

“It's war, SAM. Like, The War. Y'know, The War that will end us all if it isn't won!?” I splurted out.

“Still doesn't forgive the whole gun situation. I mean I was more accepting of Legion after a while and he's only been on the crew for six months.” Tali followed up.

“Sorry Variza but I'm gonna have to go with the group here.” Garrus spoke up, leaning against a wall in the corner. “Seen it multiple times when I served in the Turian Navy. Too obsessed with the job they forget crucial self-care.”

I clenched my teeth and balled up my fists.

“Fine.” I growled out. “We'll go to the Citadel, sing karoake, get completely smashed, and get into some dopey antics! That sounds amazing!” I honestly couldn't tell if I was being sarcastic or not through all the anger.

“Perfect!” Tali exclaimed. “Now excuse me Garrus, but I think you and I are due for a...movie screening at the Citadel. And dinner afterwards.” her tone was undeniably playful and I swear I saw a skip in her step as she went to Garrus' side.

“I thought you and I agreed that this wasn't a relationship.” I heard him mutter quietly through his artificial jaw.

Tali scoffed. “Who said anything about a relationship. I'm just using you for your body, Vakarian.” I saw her boldly wrap her arm around his narrow waist and pull him close.

Garrus suppressed a chuckle, “Oh you are so mean...and I'm okay with that.”

Still amazed how that came out of nowhere. Oh well, I'm not the center of the universe.

Anyway, they practically dragged me kicking and screaming into the Citadel's club scene. Shepard kept insisting that there were plenty of military protections there as well as C-Sec, that everything was going to be fine. Then Jack said something about wanting to move me up from lightweight and so the drinks started pouring in. Things went by in a haze, a large smear of neon lights, ridiculous antics and adventures – I think at one point Grunt and I hijacked a taxi and lit it on fire – and lots of intimate friendly discussions on life. Hell, I think I got caught up in some quasi-philosophical talk about the perception of self with Shepard, Traynor, and Liara while Mordin quietly sang Amazing Grace during karoake. Props to the guy, his usual genre is patter songs.

Then the lucidity hit. The booze left me, in this case violently in a bathroom for the very first time in my entire existence, I do not recommend it, and the hazy surroundings finally came into focus. I was on the side of a bed in some hotel, Traynor laying next to me topless. I should know, I was wearing her shirt and nothing else. I didn't exactly want to linger on how that happened or what exactly went down, this never happened to me before so the etiquette escaped me.

Then the hangover hit me in waves like a tropical storm. I stumbled around and jumped into my jeans, leaning on the walls to keep my balance as I made my way to the door. It opened up to a sort of lounge area, some sort of VIP Suite that Shepard probably rented out for a party. There was a fireplace in the middle. And Shepard was sitting next to it, his eyes flickered to me with a smile.

“Have fun?” He smirked.

“Shepard please tell me you have a hangover cure in your hands right now” I groaned as I stumbled towards the stable foundation of the couch.

He held up a glass of some bronze-looking liquid. Without hesitation I took the glass and began several cautious sips. Tasted a bit like chicken soup, but chalky.

“Asari recipe. Thought it might agree with you.” he replied. “Once you finish that I also have some coffee since I doubt you'll be sleeping the rest of the night.” he gestured to a steaming mug on the table.

“Yeah...not gonna look forward to how awkward things might be with Samantha now. I mean, I don't remember anything,” my eyes darted back to the room, “then again, she might not either.”

Shepard chuckled. It got a smile out of me. And whatever was in that drink started to work as my headache began to recede and my balance reasserted itself.

The evening went by in relative silence. A few personal questions were exchanged. Where I really grew up, my background, just small proper chitchat with all pretense thoroughly gone.

Then, the topic slowly turned to the Reapers.

“Do you know what they really are?” Shepard inquired. After a long pause, I nodded.

“There was an expansion that explained their origin but...I never really played it. How...everything ends basically soured things for me.”  
“You...never really talked about the ending before. What exactly happens? Other than...me dying.” Shepard glanced briefly to the fire. I chose my next words very carefully.

“Reapers capture the Citadel and move it towards Earth, funneling the rest of our forces to it in a trap. We get you on to the Citadel, the Crucible activates and...you're given a choice on how to use it. Destroy the Reapers, but end up destroying the geth. Destroy your body and have your consciousness override the Reapers, letting you control them. Or...you synthesize organic and synthetic life into a new unique being, causing the Reapers to understand empathy or something like that, making them stop.  
“Either way, it ends with you dying...and the entire Mass Relay network being destroyed to generate the power needed to make whatever choice happen.”

“So what you're saying is we can't force them to talk.”

I shrug and finish off the coffee. “They've done this for millennia, why would they stop now?” I catch a glimpse of the fire as well. For a second it looked like the fire had spiked but then settled down.

“Humor me then with this then...what if they're right?”

“Excuse me?”

“What if what they're doing is a mercy for the galaxy? Civilizations rise, become too powerful, start doing untold harm to the universe, and for their own good they are cut down. For the good of all that come later.”

I thought I saw something flicker under Shepard's eyes, but couldn't fully place it.  
“I would say that is highly pretentious and antithetical to what I think civilization is capable of. We have the capacity to create and make these things, yes, but we also know how to shoulder the responsibility of what comes with that craft. Human history is full of situations like this with war and nuclear disarmament.”

There was another great pause.

“And what if they created something that others knew would condemn them to annihilation. Wouldn't it be better to stop them before things became worse.” His tone became more serious.

I started grasping my throat. I swear I thought I felt something grip it like the throes of sleep paralysis.

“Example?” I managed to gasp out.

“The mass effect fields. The amount of dark energy that they generate doesn't just dispel once they are used. They continue on in space, and after centuries of use, could develop into destructive phenomena. Rips in space time that could cause irreparable damage to our physical universe.”

Then Shepard's eyes glowed a sinister red, and his voice became one from my nightmares.

“So tell me Miss T'Som...how exactly were you planning on stopping that?”

My body became frozen, whether by fear or by Harbinger's will I couldn't tell. My eyes darted around the room as it slowly lost definition, like a decaying oil painting. But the visage of the man I once thought was my friend remained.

“I must admit you fought harder than I thought. But extracting your secrets was only a matter of time.”

My memories came up again in flashes. Me back in the bed with Traynor, stumbling into the main room for a glass of water. Then someone grabbing me from behind, the smell of chloroform.

“H...how?” I choked out. A moment later it hit me, I wasn't actually speaking to SAM...he was fishing through my head. And I just gave him all of our secrets!

“As you said, Cerberus became quite desperate with what they could use against us... so I allowed them to utilize our power. In exchange for their..obedience.” Shepard's facsimile began to dissolve, the piercing red glow turning into a single solitary red lens growing in size.

AND IT WAS JUST A MATTER OF DISCOVERING WHERE YOUR CRUCIBLE WAS LOCATED. NOW FOR THE GOOD OF THE GALAXY, YOUR PEOPLE MUST BE DESTROYED.

“No...You can't do this...” I had to think. SAM had to still be connected to me somehow. Please recognize my fight or flight response. Get me out of this coma, please.

THEN THERE'S THE MATTER OF YOU MISS T'SOM. THE JUMPER. CLEARLY THE ARROGANCE OF HUMANITY GOES BEYOND THIS WORLD. COUNTLESS OTHER EARTHS THAT NEED TO BE REMINDED OF THEIR PLACE IN THE GRANDER SCHEME. WHICH IS WHY WE WILL NOW BE A PART OF YOU. OUR REACH SHALL EXTEND PAST THIS MILKY WAY, AND BRING ORDER TO MORE WORLDS. THIS IS OUR GRAND PURPOSE, AND YOU SHALL REJOICE IN BEING A PART OF IT.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” I finally bellowed out, and like a war cry I felt the grips on me loosen.

“Humanity... has its problems. Dear me do I know that, but the last thing you ever want to tell them is what they can or can't accomplish. We were told not to build tall towers for fear of Gods punishing us, so we built entire cities with towers that could break the heavens. We learned how to hold off death, defy gravity, and even how to travel faster than light through the stars!”

I started to feel my body. It was a mile away, fighting and fidgeting, like the final seconds of a lucid dream coming to an end.

“So to your utter drivel saying we can't handle what comes next. I say bring it on! To your warriors, I say you're gonna need more than that!”

I felt my hand clench up into a fist. I was on a table of some kind. Cold, but firm.

“And to this dark energy crisis that you say will doom us all... I say this. WE WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY!”

Harbinger remained silent for a moment before uttering one last phrase.

PETULANT INSECT

I snapped awake, and on reflex, I released my hand, and with it a shockwave of biotic power. The blinding light above me slowly adjusted to my vision as I spun off the table and on to solid ground. It felt cold and rough, like snake skin. The shockwave knocked several of my operators to the ground, Collectors, and unfortunately none of them had weapons. I reached for my pistol... only to be greeted by bare flesh. It just dawned on me that I was naked. And where I was. The dimly lit cavernous corridors of a Collector ship.

A blaring klaxon rang all around me. And with it, a horrific buzzing. I looked around and saw them, Seeker Swarms, pouring into the cracks.

“SAM can you hear me? I need some serious body hacking right now if I'm going to get through this!”

Miss T'Som, you're speaking again... that was admittedly clever of Harbinger.

“No time! We got Seeker Swarms! Do we have Mordin's countermeasure on file?”

That would require armor, which you don't have.

“Shit!” I broke off in a dead sprint towards where the swarms were less prevalent.

Think think think! What about my Warehouse....

I felt something in my teeth. With some effort I spat out my key and palmed it.

Just in time to see a door that was locked in front of me. Perfect.

I lunged forward and slid the key into the door, it yielded and opened into my Warehouse in a flash of blinding light.

And I was surrounded by a war stockpile any paranoid conspiracy theorist would be proud of.

I slapped on some armor, readied an SOS, and got ready for war.

“SAM...crank up my adrenaline, get some combat routines uploaded into me...and you know what... crank the Andrew W.K.”


	29. Battle For The Milky Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza's mental state begins to fracture as she pulls out every single trick imaginable against The Reapers. With the war reaching its climax at the Citadel, everything hinges on one final desperate plan.

I finally knew the answer to a certain question. What would happen if I was trapped on an enemy spaceship, and I somehow got access to my Warehouse. A Warehouse full of powerful artillery and doomsday weapons courtesy of T'Som Manufacturing. And I somehow knew how to use every single deathdealer in there.

The answer? Chaos. Total chaos. And the anthem blasting in my ears had a pretty appropriate statement for my would-be captors and bodysnatchers, The Collectors....

This is your time to pay,  
This is your judgment day,

My Prothean laser rifle vaporized a Collector sniper's head while a casually tossed grenade decimated a tightly knit squad standing between me and the next door in the corridor. The ferocious roar of the Seeker Swarms inches behind me. I dove towards the threshold, Warehouse key outstretched. The door yielded and I dropped into a roll, the swarm slamming against an energy barrier at the Warehouse threshold.

We made a sacrifice,  
And now we get to take your life,

“SAM, upload mental profile: Tali Zorah. Priority, setting up an SOS to all channels from current location.”

Variza, at the rate you are using these profiles, severe neurological damage may occur. Also, while I am maintaining your adrenaline levels, I will stop them if your heartrate gets to dangerous levels.

“Yeah I hear you, now shut up and hurry! Using up all of those low-grade explosives only bought us some time and I have no idea if that barrier can be breached or not. Jump doesn't tell me anything!” I spat out at breakneck speed while jogging in place.

After a few moments, I could feel my mind restructuring itself. A swath of practical and STEM education flooding into me at a breakneck speed, replacing the years spent at the turian military academy. And with it, I suddenly had an idea.

We shoot without a gun,  
We'll take on anyone,

I began dismantling several tools and and jerryrigging them into a device, slapping it on my Omni-Tool, my fingers flying across the holo-interface as I began programming my distress signal and overclocking the hardware to expand my range.

“No good, I have to make my way to the bridge if I want to extend this signal.” With a few quick button presses I had a layout of the ship. And there was the bridge. Two floors up and at least a mile away.

“SAM, upload profile of Justicar Samara.” I replied, casting off the blasted armor I was wearing and jumping into black-plated Terminus Armor, readying another handcannon, an assault rifle, and a Cain M1 on my back.

With a thought, I blasted back the Seeker Swarms and leapt out of the Warehouse, it sealing behind me. I then pivoted and returned to the now normal threshold and threw several siege charges at it, detonating them with practiced precision.

BOOM BOOM BOOM!

I ran through the smoke, somehow knowing the breach was made, my rifle at the ready position and remaining steady despite my breakneck sprint. The Collectors were there to greet me.

You Better Get Ready to Die!  
(Get Ready to Die!)

My rifle sprayed hot death as it tore through the Collector soldiers, my body naturally ducking, swerving and diving through enemy fire with the practiced grace of an asari warrior, what little glancing blows being deflected by the armor. With a thought I slammed a Collector into the stance of one of their monstrosities, a large insectoid like creature that was primed to fire a siege weapon at me. It buckled. I threw out my hand and unleashed another wave of power, detonating the lingering energy in the immediate area, crippling the weapon and eviscerating the nearby warriors. Coming up next was an elevator, I had to get to it.

You Better Get Ready to Kill!  
(Get Ready to Kill!)

One of the Collector's stood before me and the elevator, its eyes began glowing with unnatural power.

“ENOUGH OF THIS FOLLY! WE ARE ETERNAL! AND YOU WILL FALL LIKE THE REST OF-”

I slid between its legs and slipped to the elevator behind the Harbinger puppet, detonating my present behind him with my Omni-Tool. I didn't even bother to see if it killed it or just annoyed it.  
I gazed up at the elevator shaft and found where I needed to go. There were two more of those siege weapons primed to stop me. Blunt, if a bit predictable.

You Better Get Ready to Run!  
'Cause Here I COOOOME!

I let all of my biotic might out, propelling my body like a spear through the shaft, my stance ready for a devastating uppercut. Mere seconds later I connected with the first siege weapon, my arm striking it off the ground and turning it to the side. Its Collector operator slammed into the ceiling with a harsh crunch. I landed on the weapon and with a swift punch I struck something on the side of the creature. It fired its blast at the weapon across from it, showering the shaft with blue gooey chunks.  
An entire fireteam was already firing on me at the threshold. I let the Terminus Armor tank the hits as I called up a biotic wave, rocketing the soldiers from the ground into the walls with sickening thuds. With them out of the way I was able to witness a Collector at a control console, typing away frantically. On a hunch I ran forward, propelling my body with my asari control. My hunch was rewarded when the door to the elevator slammed shut behind me, complete with additional walls of reinforced steel.  
I had to power on through. But then I felt my legs fall out from under me, and I dropped on all-fours. My chest on fire. Damn, my body can't keep up with all of this....

You know life is over now,  
Your life is running out,

And now this music is taunting me. I don't even remember putting it on. I couldn't even tell if it was on loop or not.

When your time is at an end,  
Then, it's time to kill again,

I strained my vision up and saw that sole Collector wasn't alone. There were dozens. Hundreds. All digging their chitinous legs in, the glow of several dozen particle rifles warming up. And there was no way to escape....

… But there was a door behind me. A large one. In fact, it might large enough....

“SAM, get me moving now! I just need to get to the door!” I reached out for my key and palmed it.

Miss T'Som, if you keep going like this, your body will be broken beyond repair.

“I'm not gonna use my body. I got something else in mind!”

A shot of energy coursed through my veins and I could feel my body becoming lucid again. I ran towards the insulated door, my key at the ready. It yielded and I fell into my Warehouse once again, a rain of death pattering behind me against the barrier.

“Widen the aperture.” I said outloud, working on a hunch. The small door like entrance expanded to the full width of the elevator. Perfect.

“SAM... upload mental profile of Jeff “Joker” Moreau.” I declared, stepping in front of my parked shuttle. My Omni-Tool switching to a sautering function as I picked up several experimental portable shield generators....

The shuttle rocked through the Collector's trench. My vision blinded by the hail of particle beams, explosive rockets, and biotic energy discharge. I felt the bodies rattle against the fuselage.

You better get ready to run,  
'Cause here we COOOOME!!

“Yeah! Whatchoo got bitches!” I taunted as countless more Collectors were blindsided by my battering ram. I laughed in triumph! This is better than showing up those ableist sons of bitches back at the Academy, that's for damn sure!

I swerved the shuttle back and forth, keeping its course more on feeling than just pure training. I always seemed to have this sixth sense, and man am I putting it through the paces now. I could see the glowing lights of the command consoles of the ship's bridge in this distance. Just a little further....

Then I felt the shuttle snap in half. My chair was thrown backwards in a rush, the front half of the shuttle crumpling against the mass of...something. As my seat clattered to the floor, I slammed bodily nearby. I could hear several bones popping, damn brittle bone disease....  
… wait, I don't have that....

I shook my head and looked at what was responsible. I didn't know exactly what type of Collector it was, all I knew was that it was large, was pulsing with blue energy, and had so many human-looking faces popping out of it it would give Cronenberg nightmares.

I shut off the Andrew W. K. and slipped away from the ship's wreckage.

“YOUR MEANINGLESS REBELLION COMES TO AN END NOW. ONCE THE CRUCIBLE IS IN OUR POSSESSION, THE CYCLE WILL CONTINUE.”

“SAM...upload mental profile...Kasumi Goto,” I gasped to myself....

With a quick press of a button I cast off the outer shell of my armor, leaving only the form-fitting catsuit on me. I then uploaded my stealth field application to the Omni-Tool while moving my dummy shell back to the pilot's seat. I felt the entity move, closing in to confirm its kill no doubt. The stealth field clicked on and I began to sprint, moving past the multiple spider-like appendages of the towering monstrosity.  
I finally made it to the command console... after slicing the necks of the Collectors standing in front of them, and began cutting into it with my Omni-Tool, amplifying the signal. I then got a hold of the ship's life-support systems. I had to ensure my safety somehow, and this seemed appropriate. I heard a distant crunch from the corridor. My decoy was spotted. I immediately activated an emergency shutdown on the door to the bridge. But before it could close, the pincers of the beats pried it open. It roared in fury, the force rattling my frame and causing my ears to bleed, all sound became just a high-pitched ping.  
I then pushed a few more buttons on the dashboard and felt myself attempt to say, “Omae wa mou shindeiru.”  
The vacuum of space erupted throughout the Collector ship as all the bay doors opened. The creature lost what little footing it had left as its body was forcibly torn in multiple directions from open exposure at multiple points. Then I remembered that the maglev units were left on my now destroyed Terminus Armor as my body lost contact with the ground, it flying towards the ungodly creature and a burial at space.  
Guess this is like the Belko Heist all over again. I unclipped my hand cannon and began firing several shots at the large pincers still holding on for dear life to the door, the slowly widening portal to nothing claiming the remainder of the Collector crew. One shot, two shots, three shots, four shots. Dammit, nothing was working....  
I unhooked the Cain M1 and took one last fiery shot with it. The flaming ball of death soared through the door and connected with the monster, throwing it back and allowing the door to close.  
But not before the flaming heat of the radiated blast slipped its way through to cook me. My body connected with the door with the force of a sledgehammer, my impromptu shield redistributing the kinetic force just enough to not snap my neck or spine. But the pain was just enough to leave me slumped against the wall. My only comfort was hearing the radiation-cooked horror on the other side finally get launched into the void.

“SAM...make sure the signal keeps going, prep for radiation treatment and burns...and dispel the mental profiles,” I panted, “I'm...gonna pass out now...”

I didn't hear a response from SAM. That... makes sense. Too many processes all at once, I probably softlocked it. Wait... that's not how AI works... does it?  
I turned to face the door behind me and fished out my key. Oh well, maybe I can limp my way to the house and nurse this headache with a soda. As the Warehouse once again opened itself up to me, I made my way as carefully as I could inside. Within two steps I was on my face, my limbs losing all feeling, the cold concrete floor oddly refreshing on my face. I then heard several heavy footsteps approaching me. I felt two pairs of arms lift me up. Not warm and inviting arms but rigid and precise metallic precision. Robots.

“Jumper, you appear to have suffered a lethal dosage of radiation and severe burns, as well as several broken limbs and some internal bleeding,” one of the robots spoke, the tone tinny but... it weirdly sounded like Jump.  
“I...don't feel burned.”  
“Your AI implants must have disabled pain receptors for the sake of comfort and battle efficiency,”  
“Oh...that makes sense.”  
“We will begin measures to repair the damage but can promise nothing.”  
“Medi-Gel...salve for the burns...”  
I didn't hear what the robots said next, as my hearing began to falter. Soon after my vision finally faded to black and sleep mercifully overcame me.

“Asari brandy please.” A voice called out. Like a shock to my system I was back at the Cybertavern. Damn, it needed a serious dusting. I was behind the counter, a bottle of liquor and a glass tumbler in front of me. But... no one was sitting at the counter. It was just me, the sole source of light being a modest ceiling fan above.  
“You gonna make me wait or not? Man, the service here sucks.” the voice called out again. The tone infuriatingly neutral with its flat tones.  
On reflex I reached out to the bottle to open it... only to see that my arm was a flickering mass of static and white noise. If it wasn't horrifying it would have looked like an effect in a cheesy 80s music video. I pulled back in shock, the hair on my neck standing on end...if I had any. I could feel my breathing quickening as my other hand grasped the back of my neck on reflex. It felt...something. Hair? Tendril cartilidge? A cap? A clothed hood?  
“Ah. There it is. I'll do it myself.”  
I looked up from my facsimile of an arm in horror, only to see...an asari. She looked strangely familiar, wearing an athletic jogger's get-up, black sleeveless top and simple gray sweatpants, her build somewhere between a model and an amateur MMA fighter. But it was the face that told a story all on its own. Brow wrinkled and creased with worry and stress, scars and cuts peppered throughout that hinted at my close scrapes, and an exhausted look in the eyes that made her look ready to just lie down and sleep til Judgment Day.  
She crammed her arm behind the counter and pulled back an unlabeled bottle. Before I could protest, she flicked her finger and the stopper flew off. In another quick gesture, her tumbler was full of a clear light-blue liquid and began nursing it. I tried to speak, to tell her off, but it was like trying to scream underwater.  
“Boy, let me tell you, I have been having myself quite a day,” she sighed after wetting her lips, “struggling to maintain a weapons manufacturing company, coordinating with an information broker to assist in multiple ongoing military operations, and trying to keep my head above water, that would mess up just about any normal sane person. But then you throw in something as tempermental as a neurologically-implanted AI that can just mess around with your head, and you got yourself a recipe for insanity.” I swear she winked at me on that last phrase. She gave a sly smile while nursing her glass.  
“Yeah, I mean when I was at the Academy, I always got looks from people wondering what I was doing there,” a second voice joined in, “Wanting to be a pilot but can't go down the stairs without worrying about a shattered pelvis. That's what good old fashioned determination, dedication, and spite is for. But just mixing and matching decades of experience into your brain and thinking it'll be painless and seamless? Sloppy, real sloppy.”  
An older human was in the chair next to the asari. Light brown stubby beard, and wearing a baseball cap with the Alliance Navy's logo on it. Somehow, he already had a gin and tonic in front of him in a novelty Looney Toons glass; the outside shaped to look like the face of Bugs Bunny.  
My head began to ring with pain, as if multiple tiny metal needles began jamming it in quick sharp thrusts. For a brief instant, I think I was at the other end of the bar, addressing some sad paper cut-out of a person, before snapping back to my position.  
“To master the battle arts of a Justicar takes centuries of discipline,” a third voice floated in, one more authoritative than snide, “it is more than just knowing the moves and how to move, it's the conditioning that comes with those centuries of practice. If one acts without the proper body, it could lead to serious damage.” Justicar Samara sat to my right side. No drink in hand, but a glass of iced water appeared in front of her.  
“Plus, memories aren't just facts, figures and gestures,” Kasumi whispered in my ear, “they're strongly tied to emotions, stories, fears, flashes of intimate personality. You can't have one without the other.” I felt several bottles leave from the counter before a hooded woman appeared at a table far away. “After all, who are we if not the sum total of our experiences?”  
“Which begs the question...who are we talking to right now?” I felt them cry in unison. I raised my hand to gesture towards the inquisitive crowd, only to see my arm flicker between salarian, quarian, and human digits. The tavern drained of color and my patrons began fading together like a whirlpool of color.

I....who am I?

Jumper...

Jumper... what?

Jumper, wake up...

What the hell have I done to myself!?

Jumper, you need to wake up!

I snapped awake in the medbay, the melody of several beeping monitors greeting me. I looked down at myself and checked my features. Blue arms, head tentacles, female anatomy.... Right, I'm asari. I shook my head and got out of the medical bed, the tools used to monitor me tied more to sensors on the bed than intrusive IV needles. After stumbling for a moment I managed to get my footing and made my way towards the Warehouse threshold back into the Collector ship.

“Jumper, your radiation and burns have been treated and we just finished setting and restoring your broken bones, but we must recommend bed rest.” I heard one of the robots demand. “At the rate you have been pushing your mind and body, you are heading towards permanent physical impediment, or worse a psychotic break or indeterminate fugue state. If you go out there now, you are on borrowed time.”

Borrowed time? Time limit... The Reapers!

“Have to inform the Alliance,” I groaned as I continued my trek towards the doorway. “They have to activate the Crucible now. Or else they're going to be facing down the entire Reaper armada in a matter of hours.”

I stopped at the threshold. “And if that thing goes, we're all dead anyway.”

“Jumper, please, you need to think long-term.”

“Thanks for the patch-up, but I have some friends who need me.” I stepped through, and the door to the Warehouse reverted back to the airtight emergency doors. And just like changing logs on the Extranet, SAM once again chimed into my ear.

Miss T'Som, are you alright? it asked. It took me a beat to realize he meant me.

“Pretty sure I have a migraine that could kill a krogan, other than that I'm just peachy.” I remarked, making my way towards the command bridge, “how about the SOS and the message to the Alliance? Do we have any responses and are there any ships in the immediate area?”

Unfortunately we are far off from any Mass Relay or station that could pick up the signal. And it seems that whatever star formations are nearby are difficult to cross-reference with star charts without me being connected to the Normandy's AI Hub given your limited knowledge of the maps. It seems that whatever the Reapers wanted out of you, they wanted to ensure that no one would interfere.

“So what you're saying is... we're dead in the water out here.” I exhaled, deflated.

I'm afraid so.

I slumped against the carapaced command consoles in defeat. Even with the Warehouse providing water and food, I doubt it also renews what little breathable air is on the bridge. Going by human standards and counting the space of the Warehouse itself, that would mean I'd have about six days and some change before I'd start to suffocate. And by that time, chances are the Reapers will have already overwhelmed all of the Core Races' military and then... game over. No one's going to hear the signal out here, and a single person can't control and pilot a dreadnaught of this size, especially someone with no formal training or familiarity with the Collector's architecture.  
I'm trapped. And the only people who know that I'm even gone are working on a very cold trail.

“So much for going down in a blaze of glory,” I mutter to myself, face in my hands.

I can still put together that signal Miss T'Som. We won't know whose out there unless we try...

“Yeah... might as well have false hope rather than no hope.” I reply, moving over to a console and allowing SAM to interface with the beacon through my Omni-Tool. It took about two minutes of flashing green lights over the holographic interface, but the signal was boosted.

After a few minutes too many I asked the obvious question, “What exactly is the pre-recorded message the beacon is sending out?”

It's the chorus of Dolly Parton's Nine to Five on loop. I have a feeling if Shepard or the others hear that, they'll know it's you.

I caught myself laughing harder than I expected. “Guess I'll get that bedrest after all,”

I turned to face the sealed door and started fishing out the Warehouse key again. Then... I heard a low teeth-chatter droning buzz. It felt like the whole ship was vibrating from the buzz.  
No. Not here.  
“SAM, give me outside visual!” I barked.  
A vid screen popped up, and I saw them. Reapers. At least six. All flying towards the ship, their maws glowing an ominous blood red, crackling with destructive power.  
Miss T'Som, I estimate it will take about two minutes for them to get into firing range. What are we going to do?

“I...I...I'm going to die.”

What about your Warehouse? Can you hide in there?

The image of the exit to the Warehouse disintegrating in a red explosion with me still in it played out in my head, followed by my suffocation. I felt my fingers fumble the key as it hit the ground with a light ding.

Variza, what's the plan?

“I DON'T HAVE ONE!” I screamed in terror.

I dropped to my knees and tried to slow my breathing. Kept playing scenarios out in my head. Trying to find some way out. And I kept seeing death.

I failed. It's over....

“Variza, open the airlock behind you and suit up.” I heard a voice break through on my comms. He sounded familiar.  
I had to have cracked, “what?” I replied in astonishment.

“Get your spacesuit on and shoot yourself into the vacuum. Your ride's here.” the voice repeated in his surly devil-may-care why.

“Joker?”  
“Don't make me tell you a third time! Those Reapers are gonna blow us up in a minute and change so we have to go now!”  
“Holy shit!!” I exclaimed, letting out a manic laugh as I reached my hand into my suit's pocket, naturally fishing out the Warehouse key again and entering once again. I jumped into my last suit of armor, slapping on a helmet and sealing it. I didn't have time to check the make or model it was literally the last thing left among the scattered empty crates and boxes of expended power cells and thermal clips. I leapt through the threshold back to the ship and recalled my key.  
“SAM, DO THE THING!” I screamed.  
It was clearly ahead of me since the doors opened an instant later. I was sucked through with the force of the vacuum of space and I was greeted by the blurred mass of the Collector ship followed shortly by the infinite void, my muffled breathing my only company. The boosters on the suit stabilizing my chaotic flailing as the uncaring pull of space tossed me around.  
Then I saw a shape taking form in front of me. The familiar four thrusters of its engine. The cargo ramp lowered with the noticeable shimmer of an atmosphere generator surrounding it. And it was angled in just the right way. The SSV Normandy was here to catch me! Dammit Joker you really are the best!  
I banked my body and kept re-orienting my direction with my suit's jets, the ramp getting closer and closer, my pulse rising. Just as I was worried about my entry speed, I saw two people stepping out onto the ramp: Jack and Samara. Both of them holding out their hands coursing with biotic power. I got the idea and floored it with the jets, the G-force slamming on my body like a rollercoaster from Hell, the ramp getting larger and larger. And right when I thought I was going to crash into the metal and asphyxiate, I felt my body slow and stop, my rescuers glowing with violet energy.  
“Joker, we got her! Go Go Go!” Jack barked as Samara guided me into the Normandy's cargo bay. The doors closed, the ramp sealed up, I felt the ship lurch like it was being fired out of a cannon, and we were off.  
Despite my protests, Jack and Samara carried me to medbay for examination.  
“Please, I have to talk to Shepard,” I muttered,  
“Variza, as your friend, I'm telling you to stop putting on all this responsibility and look after yourself.” Jack protested while tossing me bodily on the examination table.  
“Jack, please stop roughly handling my patients,” Dr. Chakwas commented with rote exasperation.  
“Have we...met before?” I gasped to the doctor.  
“Oh dear, she's worse than I thought. We need to link up her SAM implants to the central node, should help me get a better idea of what's going on in there.”  
Then I heard SAM whisper in the back of my mind. The phrase turned my blood to ice.  
Miss T'Som, are you familiar with the story of the Trojan Horse?

The Reapers...they had a back-up plan in case I escaped. How long was I out? Plenty enough to place something in the implants? Indoctrination? No it would take far too long without more intrusive augmentation. Wait, think more simple. SAM's implants are hard wired into every single member of the crew here, from the deep muscle to their circulatory system... oh god....  
“Doctor... kill...” I tried to scream but the last of my energy was starting to leave me, the mental exhaustion beginning to take its toll.  
“You won't die Miss T'Som, I'm a professional,” she stated with warm confidence as she went to connect some wires to the bed and pulled up readings from my implants. I turned in terror to get Jack's attention, only to see that she was long gone, distant klaxons and flashes of red outside the medbay signal high alert. And I just heard a low whoosh coming from the bed which meant the suspension field was now active on it. Great, not only is Joker pulling off some insane maneuvers to keep the Reapers from killing us, I'm strapped to a bed so I can't prevent the Reapers from killing us. And I just got out of my own Warehouse's medbay. The repetition made things even worse!  
Think, there has to be someone here not connected to SAM who can help...  
Miss T'Som, I'm sorry but they were very thorough with getting through my defenses. If it's any consolation, it was an honor to serve with you and all organic races in the time that I did.  
Organic...that's it!  
“I. Need. To. Speak. To. Legion. Immediately.” I barked out, hearing my back pop several times during the process. Doctor Chakwas took one look on my face and her expression changed slightly.  
“Is it...mission critical?”  
I nodded. She opened up her Omni-Tool and pressed several glowing panels. Then I saw her switch to her datapad and saw my readings.  
“Oh my goodness, your neural readings are a total mess. Disassociative, severe memory loss. Surprised you still remember my name. The node should have your mental profile so if we just get to a proper uplink we should be able sort yourself out.”  
“Wait.” I choked out.  
“Miss T'Som if you don't get this handled soon you could up comatose or worse, now what exactly is so bad about...” her voice trailed off as she saw the data pad light up with little red exclamation marks.  
“Joker, we have a serious problem here! Some sort of malware has infiltrated the-ahhhhh!!” she began to scream in pain, holding her head in agony.  
An instant later the pain hit me as well. Like someone had pumped miniature drills into my blood vessels and brain and someone told them to go nuts. I wanted to move, to struggle, but all I could do was lie suspended on the bed, suffering. Come on Legion, where are you? If this attack doesn't kill us, the Reapers will just blast us apart in the chaos.  
I don't know how long I was waiting but when I saw the headlight-face of Legion's geth frame I could have laughed in triumph.  
“Variza T'Som, I was informed you have critical information for us. We also have concluded it will help prevent our current dire situation.” It monotoned in its robotic tinny voice.  
I nodded. “SAM. Virus. Hurting the crew. Help us.”  
Legion turned in the general direction of where the node was on the Normandy, somewhere on the third deck if I recalled properly, then turned back to face me.  
“You are giving us permission to interface with SAM and the Normandy's more vital systems in hopes of countering this Reaper virus. Acknowledged. Please know that there is a great chance that the virus might infect our operating systems as well. In the case of that happening, we will preserve ourselves by any means necessary, including destroying the node and this platform.”  
I tried to nod again but was struck again by another surge of pain, the feeling in my arms and legs fading.  
“Acknowledged.” Legion responded. Then he sprinted out of the medbay with stiff robotic agility.  
With any luck, the Reaper's virus won't affect Legion as much as the others. They believe that organic and synthetic life can't co-exist so the geth might just be the key to saving us.  
After a few moments, the pain immediately stopped. Doctor Chakwas slowly got to her feet, bleeding from her nose.  
“What just... happened?” she clutched the side of the bed and hoisted herself up.  
“Attention Normandy crew, this is the one designated Legion.” a familiar synth voice spoke across the public comm systems, “The Reapers have infected Miss T'Som's SAM implants and have been spreading it to the rest of the crew using the SAM node. For safety purposes I have shut down any and all SAM interfacing with key members of the crew as not to impede our escape from the Reaper warships. We shall continue our attempts to contain this virus but will terminate the node if all attempts fail.”  
Doctor Chakwas looked at me in horror and uttered a curse under her breath. But then she quickly composed herself and started pulling out medi-gel and other medication from the cabinet and got to work. God I could kiss her the way she just pulled herself back together. She quickly rattled off what she was doing to offset the damage done by the Reaper virus, half of it I barely understood, but what strength I had lost from the attack was almost completely back in full.  
It didn't take long for her to slump into a chair, exhausted while the various gels and fluids pumping into me started working their magic, a second pair of the same hooked up to herself.  
“Get me out of this field, Doctor,” I replied after a while, “we need to get the others here as well.”  
“We can't.” she gestured outside the medbay windows. I looked over to see anything that wasn't bolted down flying about, various instruments were sparking, and there were even signs of other crewmen spasming and screaming in pain from the virus attack.  
“If we go out there we'll be battered by the chaos going on there,” several shocks rippled throughout the ship, “and Joker is clearly pulling out all the stops just to keep us alive. As much as I hate to say this as a doctor, we can't do anything until we're out of here.”  
I swore out loud, but eventually understood. So I closed my eyes and tried to take stock of everything. Then after my head started hurting again I just went back to the big problem: stopping the Reapers from reaching the Crucible first. It didn't matter if the thing was finished or not, it had to be activated, combined with the Citadel and fired. They want to eliminate all organic life in the Milky Way...but they also desire to use me as a vehicle to carry the Reapers into other worlds. And for that they need me alive to indoctrinate and reprogram.  
Oh dear god I'm as important to them as Shepard now. Two equally important targets, keys to their ultimate goals, and all of our allies are honing in one place, and all I have to work with now is a key to a Warehouse....  
I kept going over other possibilities for my plan, iterating on it. I only had one shot at this, and it had to work. It. Had. To. Work. Who cares if I can't remember anything important like my birthday or where I was born or how exactly I got this weird Warehouse key, all that mattered was firing that damn weapon and ending this cycle once and for all. Whoever the hell is still kicking around in this skull of mine, that is something we can all agree on.  
After about ten minutes of relative silence the klaxons and red lights ceased and the suspension field de-activated. I practically jumped out and made my way to the bridge, ignoring Chakwas' protests as I made way.  
To put it charitably, the Normandy was fucked. The bridge was a mass of shredded metal, flickering and glitching displays, and flaming slag. There were too many bodies to count, the med bay looked more like a morgue than an actual place of healing when clean-up started happening. The SAM node was destroyed, Legion's frame was hanging limply near it, its singular eye flashing and flickering while various internal parts whirred and whined at a fevered pitch. If I had to guess, some serious calculations were happening with the aid of the geth collective for...something.  
Joker was basically keeping the ship together through shear grit and willpower since the shaking from the battle had messed up his arms and legs. The only real reason why we were even still alive was we were still at FTL speeds via a mass relay and all of the barriers and countermeasures for such travel were kept online by a combo of jerryrigged patch jobs by what remained of the engineering crew and Tali working her magic on the ship's eezo core. I understood maybe half of what she was saying, but her exasperation made it clear it was nothing short of being held together with duct tape and positive thinking.  
What remained of the team gathered in the War Room, and Shepard did his best to keep spirits high. I hardly heard any of his rousing speech.. But the gist was simple. With SAM taken offline and everything fried, the Normandy was cut off from the Alliance. We couldn't get back up, and despite the urgent message that was sent to all the other race's military leaders, the united defense will be helter skelter at best due to distance, occupation, and...viable numbers. On the bright side, it meant that with everyone's implants disabled, whatever hacking the Reapers did to me meant they couldn't reliably track the Normandy again, so its stealth capabilities should work for us again. All we knew were the Reapers were making their way towards the Crucible in an attempt to destroy it, and one of us had to be there to activate it. Right into the thick of the entire might of the Reapers putting its final nail into the entire Milky Way's coffin.  
In other words, it was yet another suicide mission with Commander Shepard. What else is new?

“So...does anyone have any ideas?” Shepard inquired, gesturing broadly towards everyone.  
“Honestly...no,” Wrex spoke up, “put me on the ground with the enemy in front of me, I can give you at least seven different ways to take them apart. But naval combat? Not for me.”  
“Turian navy protocal would have us rendezvous with a more equipped war ship to relay tactical information and regroup...but that would take time we don't have.” Garrus sounded deflated on the final phrase, his metallic jaw twitching in discomfort.  
“The engines are barely holding together as it is. Pushing them any further for speed just isn't going to work.” Tali added.  
Shepard took a deep breath... then quickly slammed his fist in anger. I finally raised my hand.  
“Oh here we go,” I heard Jack snipe.  
“First... we need to get in contact with the geth,” I spoke up.  
“Legion?” Shepard asked.  
“No... the geth.”  
The door to the War Room opened, and in walked Legion.  
“Perhaps I can be of some assistance?” he spoke in SAM's voice.  
I flashed a toothy smile, “Oh my gosh... that might work better than I thought,”  
“What do you have in mind?” Thane asked, his hands crossed under his chin in quiet contemplation.  
“It... might involve a lot of us never coming back. Just letting you know now.”  
“I have made my peace with Kaluhira, Miss T'Som, whatever happens next I accept gladly,” Thane smiled.  
“There are worse ways to go,” Wrex casually readied his shotgun and started examining it.  
“Yeah, and better to do it fighting,” Jack growled with a wolfish grin.  
“Alright... let's hear this plan.” Shepard remarked.  
And so I told them. The steps, the intent, and every little trick inbetween  
“You're insane,” Garrus intoned.  
“That whole plan is insane!” Tali exclaimed.  
“It is highly unorthodox.” SAM concurred.  
“Let's do it!” Shepard projected.  
The geth ships undocked from the Normandy, what little skills they could add to keep that heap together were focused on the engines and the hull. We had to be as maneuverable as possible if we were going to get the Reapers to bite. I hunched into the corner, my armor tight, my helmet on, double-checking the settings on my guns and trying to take some deep breaths. Thane and Jack were next to me, readying themselves as well. I could hear Thane making prayers to his gods, while Jack kept rubbing her hands together and occasionally scratching her hair in impatience.  
“Why the hell did I let this ponytail grow out again?” I heard her mutter.  
“Shepard, is everyone in position?” I spoke over the comms.  
“Yeah, and the makeshift cryo pod made from SAM's blueprints seems to be holding together.”  
“Yeah, and all it took was completely breaking down the Mako for parts and disassembling all of the freezer units.” Tali mused.  
“Okay...” I pulled up a holo display on my Omni-Tool, displaying the Normandy and my Kodiak Shuttle. “Once we pull out of FTL space, the shuttle team will deploy and make their way towards the Crucible. Hopefully by then, it will already start interfacing with the Citadel. Normandy team will run distraction while playing the message on all channels. There's a chance we won't have nearly enough cover fire from the core races' navies so pilots use what you can. Debris, nebulas, whatever you can.”  
“And what about your fancy doomsday devices, Variza? The ones you said you were packing away for this very situation?” Jack asked. I could hear the fear through her teeth.  
“I...put most of them near Earth I... didn't think things would become this unpredictable.” Images of a blasted war-torn hellscape on Earth flashed through my eyes, Shepard leading a ground team towards some beam of energy created by the Crucible, followed by the deadly red destruction of Reaper fire. A bombastic battle that will now never happen.  
“Well...that's just great.” Jack spat.  
“No plan ever survives first contact with the enemy. I honestly can't blame you for trying to think ahead Variza,” Wrex patted my shoulder, the weight of his armored hand almost knocking me off my feet.  
Comms were then disabled. We couldn't let the Reapers know what would happen next. So I kept my eyes on the display, the Normandy and shuttle floating in front of me. Various bumps and strikes rocked the outside, we were in the thick of it now.

Step one: Play the message.  
Attention to the entire Reaper War Machine and to Harbinger in particular. This is Variza T'Som. I know what you're about to do, and we both know I don't have the firepower or the artillery available right here to stop you. But we do know this: If I die, you lose access to your only chance to spread your order to the rest of the multiverse. So if you want me, come and get me!  
Step two: Scramble the Normandy and the shuttle. There can be no discernible differences in readable life signs across both vessels. The Reapers can't know which one has me in it. And geth don't show up on bio censors, so SAM is able to pilot one using Joker's skills, while another geth copies the template and does the same. As far as the Reapers know, both ships are helmed by pilots of equal skill. And since they are more focused on eliminating organic life, the synths' involvement might give us the advantage we need.

Step Three: Wait to see if they take the bait. The hold rattled and rocked. I felt the others' anxious glances on me as things got more intense. Logically, the Normandy is the ideal military vessel. It successfully assaulted the Collector base, has stealth readings for mundane censors outside of just blatantly looking out and physically seeing the thing, and has the superior shields and armor compared to the dinky shuttle. Ideally, it would be the vessel to house either Shepard or me to the Crucible. The Kodiak meanwhile is a simple civilian vessel with no real tactical importance whatsoever. It could very easily be destroyed. Even if it did make it to the Crucible, the Reapers could easily gun down the small strike team due to the shuttle's small size.  
Which is exactly what I was counting on. A large groaning of metal and industrial screeching rumbled around us. And I heard the horrific buzzing of a Reaper's signal, the kind that made the most hardened soldiers crumble to nothing. And I heard him in my head....

It is time to end this foolishness. Only a madman would dare to breach the perimeter with a simple vessel. Your bluff has failed you Variza T'Som. Both you and Shepard will now fall to our cycle, as countless trillions have before you.

“Yeah...it's a good thing Shepard and most of the crew isn't here right now.” I muttered to myself.

Then Wrex barged through the open door with an armored foot and stepped out to face the interior of Harbinger. Waves upon waves of converted humans jumped onto him, their flesh blue and covered in twisted metal appendages. Wrex screamed as he hip-fired his shotgun with one hand while unleashing his own biotic power with his other.hand.  
Then the converted krogan showed themselves. Hulking monsters of contorted muscle and horrific brutal strength. They came down on Wrex like gorillas, pounding away at him. That's when Thane and Jack leaped in, their own biotic power charged and ready to strike. In a loud explosion of swirling blue energy, the monstrosities were thrown off of Wrex. They slowly spread out, but not completely leaving the ship's immediate area, firing prothean laser and anything and everything that moved.

As for me, I stayed near the threshold, my hand wavering near the door the Wrex had removed, even finding time to lift it and re-attach it to the Normandy's threshold. Harbinger spoke once again.

So, you chose the irrational path in the end after all. It matters not. Our forces will destroy the Crucible, with Shepard on it, and then we will deal with you. You have failed. And once we are done with you, you will regret you resisted as long as you have. That is our promise to you. For we are your evolution, your future, your salvation from the horrors to come. And soon, all will see this truth.

“You know what...I do have regrets,” I began. My hand on my holstered SMG. “I never got to see Earth in this era, see what it looked like after two centuries of beautiful unity and cooperation. I never had a chance to just live a normal life, take things in because I was so focused on dealing with you. I regret not figuring out what was going with that secret ops group Shepard was the head of. Hell, I'm pretty sure he stopped having the rank of Commander long ago,” I stepped further to the door, readying my gun and taking deep breaths. “I regret not finding love, or at the very least an intimate friend for Joker. Then again that's what happens when Cerberus doubles down on their bullshit. Hell, that's another regret right there: not getting to see The Illusive Man's face when we dismantled his organization and threw in his face the idea that humanity standing alone is more noble than us standing together as one.” I smiled, and started rubbing my fingers together, like a gunslinger ready to draw at any moment.  
“But you know what I won't regret? The satisfaction in proving you wrong with one hell of a rebuttal. Shepard...are we in position?” I spoke into my comms.

“We're all grounded and pinned down a bit. Is it time?” He came through a little garbled, but I heard him clearly enough.

“Good. Now!” I yelled.

Step Four: Unleash the Trojan Horse. While it was clear that Shepard and his team traveling in the Kodiak Shuttle would be damn near suicidal, Shepard would have made it clear to present Alliance navy to prioritize them landing on the Crucible, meaning a lot of support fire would happen. As for the ground assault, things got to be a little creative.

What...is this?

“Well, you tell me, Harbinger. You were in my head,” I smiled ear to ear.

The Warehouse? Impossible. Nothing can live inside it without you being present. And the key returns to you if it is considered lost.

“True, but let's say the door to the Warehouse in question was within a cryo stasis pod? Granting a form of suspended animation to those within?”

Then I heard the escalated attacks on Shepards end of the comms. What was at first the dull roar of a pitched firefight turned into a hellish soundscape of explosions and destruction. With Shepard yelling to push forward.

“Oh, and that whole thing you said about organic and synthetic life being incompatible. Here's my rebuttal. The geth. Aren't. Organic. And you can fit a lot of geth war machines and artillery into ten-thousand square feet of pocket dimension warehouse.”

“Variza, the reinforcements are out and they're holding back the Reaper bombardment! We're pushing forward to the Crucible's central controls now!”

“Shepard, T'Som, this is Admiral Hackett, Alliance military. Our blockade is holding for now but Shepard you better double-time it. We will hold the line with all we have!” A third voice barked over the comms.

“Copy that Shepard. Just make your big decision count, you big goddamned hero.” I chuckled. I then held out my free hand.

“Gee, I wonder where my Warehouse key is?” I asked out loud, only to have it appear in my open hand. A beat later, I plunged it into the Normandy's door, and the rest of the geth began to pour out. Ground troops, massive colossi, Geth Primes, more than I could count spewing superheated death on Harbinger's legions and forming on Wrex, Thane, and Jack.

The geth? Yet another insignificant obstacle in our goals. We have hacked their systems before. It will happen again. And this shallow attempt at a revolution shall end here.

The inside of the ship glowed with a sinister red, and I saw the metal innards of Harbinger shift as hundreds more of his converted thralls poured out to challenge my fireteam. And I began to feel the fear hit me. Harbinger was right...we're dead.

But the geth...kept fighting. I didn't know what had happened. Then I noticed something, the facelights on the geth. They were all different colors. And their armor, each platform seemed to have their own personal flourishes. Fabric from a quarian suit. Padded pauldrons like a krogan's back hump. Lithe athletic frames not unlike a deadly asari commando. What in the world was going on?

“That may have been true before, Harbinger, but we have seen a new way,” A voice came in unity from the geth, “as one, we were united, but uniform and easy to divide. But now with SAM, we have adapted the adaptive matrix and with it, the minds of organic life, in all of their capacities. Like our brothers and sisters, we have learned and grown. Unique, but united.”

My jaw hit the floor. Holy shit...they got the best of both worlds. The coordination of the geth collective but retaining distinct individual senses of personal self, using the profiles of SAM and the latent sense of self Legion was developing. Hacking that would take too long. Damn, SAM...you just saved our butts.

“Just as planned!” I lied out my ass.

And the battle raged. The geth demonstrated their newfound skills of cooperation at the speed of thought mixed with improvisation and rapidfire microplanning. Thane, Wrex, and Jack fell back and supported them with biotic might and the occasional blast of artillery from our preciously small supply of power cells. The hoards of Harbinger's converted thralls were slowly being pushed back as the ominous red glow continued to rise in intensity, the very walls shaking with palpable rage and disgust. In fact the glow was starting to make the various cords, wires, and mechanical innards look more and more like blood vessels and veins.

“Shepard, what's your status!?” I yelled over the heat of the battle, barely managing to pop the heads off two human thralls attempting to rush me.

“I can see a beam of light. Some sort of transport tube that leads straight to the Crucible's main controls. The artillery support is giving us some cover but we're basically playing Red Light, Green Light over here. You?”

“We are literally fighting for our lives inside a mechanical eldritch horror fighting things collected from trillions of years of techno-horror harvest just so we can play a distraction. Silver lining, I think I accidentally ascended the geth.”

“Accidentally?”

“Doesn't matter! It's working!” I exclaimed.

I then heard a gun shot on Shepard's end, and heard him clatter to the ground. I called out several times.

“Variza?” I heard Jack call out.

“Shepard, you alright?”

“I just got winged, it's fine!”

I pulled myself away from the conversation to see Wrex was about to be telekinetically gutted by an asari thrall. I threw several grenades from my belt after signaling Jack. Several satisfying booms later and Wrex continued his rampage.

“Hackett, what's the fleet's status?”

“Dropping fast. But do not worry about us. This is our duty, and we will stand until this is over.” Hackett replied in stoic resilience.

ENOUGH!

The sound lifted us off the ground, the entire interior flexed and moved like a giant throat. I fell to my feet. And I saw it. Harbinger. The true Harbinger. The thing that commanded and controlled the squidlike spaceship.

And... I had no words. It's physiology looked like something that had long since abandoned its origina form. Something amphibious that bodyhacked itself into vertebrate status, then never stopped adding in extra bits. It was large and bound in wires, wires that were breaking off with the sound of industrial beams snapping like twigs. Limbs... appendages? It seemed to both have a coherent skeleton under its mass, but it didn't behave like one. More of a framework than a strict vessel for its vitals. I kept seeing the approximation of ribs or fragments of skull as it erupted into our area, red energy erupting from it in completely unfettered bursts.

This is over. Your infantile attempts shall be stopped here and now. Like so many before you, you shall know the futility of fighting against us!

And my vision became a furious haze of sharp violet. It wasn't until a second or two later that I realized what had happened. Jack, Thane, and Wrex had all pooled their biotic power until a barrier, attempting to hold back Harbinger's destructive payload. Before I could call for them to redirect the blast, bullcrap space telekinesis or not there was no way they could hold something like that back forever, the floor erupted, their stances faltered, and that haze of violet flickered back into red, and everything became sharp pain and deafening screams.

I felt myself get thrown back into the remains of The Normandy. The threshold from which the geth were pouring out was decimated, too many frames to count littered the field. I couldn't see or hear anyone else.

And I had only one last trick left. I made my way towards the eezo core. And started arming my charges. Yeah, it meant dying, but I can't let the Reapers get out of this universe.

“It's not what we're fighting against... it's what we're fighting for...” I said to no one in particular. I saw the cracks in the ship become distorted by another salvo of Harbinger's payload as I made my way, oblivious to pain or even sensation at all.

“And if there's one thing humanity will fight harder for than anything...it's their future.” I planted the charges.

“Variza...I'm here.” Shepard replied through the chaos, “I'm not sure what this will do but.... thank you... for everything.”

“No, Shepard... thank you,” I finished attaching the last charge and held the detonator in my hand. I hesitated. The piercing red became sharper, and I tensed up, thumb on the trigger, ready to go.

Then, I felt something powerful ripple through the ship. A wave of energy of some kind. Then the red glow dulled away. Several things happened all at once from there. Harbinger... unraveled. Like an elaborate stitching pattern getting pulled on, it lost its form. Whatever artificial gravity keeping the Normandy locked immediately gave way, causing the ship to fall into back into space below. I fell through the remaining cracks in the Normandy's hull and began floating in the aftermath of the battle, my suit immediately going into life support mode and keeping me free of any large bits of debris.

As cryostasis began to put me to sleep I got a good look at what this plan had done. Ships. Too many of them to count torn to ribbons. The Crucible was fired, looking like a large metal blossom, the center point still crackling with some unusual yellow energy. And...the entire Alliance fleet. The Turian, and Asari navies. The Salarian STG fleet. The Quarian Flotilla's best and brightest warships. Destroyed. Thousands... millions... billions of lives. The crew. Shepard.

My God... what have I done?


	30. End of First Jump

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Variza is judged for her actions

I've long since lost track of the time. The doctors were very careful in maintaining an inoffensive atmosphere of healing for me. No clocks. No technology. No connection to the outside world. Just a bed, an analog video monitor, a music player, and a relatively pleasant view of the outside. For a wing fashioned out of what remained of the Citadel, it was quite relaxing. Physical therapy came and went, bandages were redressed, bones were set and healed. Several geth platforms came to visit me, equipped with some snippets of information from SAM to help reform my mental state. It was all a lovely comforting little bubble after the nightmare we all survived.

But it didn't change a simple fact in my mind.

My name is Variza T'Som, and I am a war criminal. The power of the Crucible's energy wave actively crippled every single Mass Relay in the entire galaxy. In addition to the bodycount at the Battle of the Crucible, there were still untold trillions of lives cut off from crucial transport and supply lines. FTL travel without the relay network would take years and by then more would have died from disease, injury, or starvation. And my reckless plan at that crucial battle robbed the galaxy of their greatest heroes, several of which happened to be people I could fall friends. All because of the choices I made.

And every single day, I was expecting someone to arrive to carry out the sentence. In the meantime, I was left with my sins and the dull headache from the piecemeal personality reconstruction.

The day started off as usual. A beautiful sunrise waking me up, an asari nurse taking my temperature and redressing my wounds, the usual medical upkeep, some classical Earth music starts playing as I do my physical therapy, trying to get my arms and legs to work again, then the monitor clicks on with the latest chapter of an asari romance I...admit kept me engaged despite dreading the other shoe to drop.

Then that afternoon...I got a visitor.

“Oh Miria, I don't care if we're both asari,” the lead pontificated to her love while overlooking a gorgeous nebula from their space yacht, “damn the galaxy, damn society, and damn our sisters with their cruel backstabbing ways. Who cares what the others think? That we're ardat-yakshi, that we're uncouth. Forget them all. We could live in some colony in the Attican Traverse or a simple yurt on some reserve on who knows where. I just want us to be together!” She threw herself into her lover's arms, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Finally, after ten long chapters of back and forth, she finally said it. Now come on Miria, say those beautiful words. You two have had chemistry for so long and its clear your taste in human and salarian partners is dodgy at best. Just take her in your arms and go make adorable blue children together. Come on, say those magical words.

“Hey, blue! You in there!? Come on, I've been looking everywhere for you!” A voice barked from the other side of my door, fist banging on it all the while.

I almost fell out of my wheelchair, swearing up a storm as my body protested with sharp pains. I fumbled for the remote and the plastic spork I had hidden in my lap (take what you can get) and shut off the monitor, and started wheeling my way to the door.

I tried to ready some sort of attack as I pulled the door back. It was Jack, obviously, but she could be working for someone else. It didn't matter if I didn't see her survive the battle. I somehow lived and we were in the same area so the logistics of her being alive wasn't my priority. Either way, tt would be the perfect ploy for assassination.

I pulled the door back and on reflex unleashed my biotic fury in a blind strike! And there was Jack to greet me. Plain medical looking patient's robe, walking with a cane in one hand and a freshly telekinetically destroyed handful of lilacs in the other.

“What the fuck!?” She declared, her hands thrown up in reflexive defense.

“Jack, just get it over with! There's probably a pistol in those flowers so just-” I spat out, giving a beat to realize what just happened.

“Pistol? What are you- why did you blow up my flowers?!”

“Don't bury the lede, it's not your style. If you're gonna carry out justice, at least be direct about it!”

I shut my eyes and leaned forward, expecting the Psychotic Biotic to do what she came here to do. I felt a force throw my wheelchair back into the wall, my head hitting the back with a light thud. I swallowed and waited for the snapping of my neck, or a bullet to the head, or however she decided to do it.

I felt her arms close around my neck. Snapping of the neck it is. Go on. Get that medal. You deserve it after everything I've put you through. Then... I felt her arms close around my back and her body pressed to mine in a tight and admittedly awkward sitting hug.

“Blue, you are the most frustrating and annoying people I've ever known in my entire life! But dammit...it's so good to see you again.” I heard her holding back tears as her grip on me tightened.

I...guess she's not here to kill me after all.

I slowly reciprocated her hug. After so much time alone, it felt so nice.

I don't how long it took, but she finally let go and hobbled to the bed and sat down, letting her cane fall down where it stood.

“How exactly did you find me?” I finally asked, then in a fit of deja vu after seeing the wooden support clatter to the floor I continued, “and why do you keep ending up using a cane after all of this?”

“I overheard the doctors talk about you. Well, indirectly, but they kept saying something about emotional sensitivity and carefully limiting access to extranet-oriented media, so I figured it was you. Also, I have no damn clue, I don't have a say in what parts of my body gets messed up.”

“Heh, so you were here the whole time?” I smiled, looking down at my bandaged arms embarrassed at my crazy leaps of logic.

“Yeah. Just a lot of tests, medication and boring physical therapy.” She groaned in pain as she tried lifting one of her legs before setting it back down.

“So... guess I'll just keep waiting for the guillotine to come down then.” I exhaled.

“What...what are you talking about, Variza?”

I looked up to her, dumbfounded. “What do you mean what? After everything we've gone through, I should be court martial'd and sentenced to death.”

“Okay what kind of drugs do they have you on, because you sound high as shit with a thought like that.”

“I'm serious, Jack.” I felt my mouth getting dry. “When I first arrived at the Citadel I attempted to assassinate a Spectre, an agent of the Council. That is grounds for an act of domestic terrorism. I confessed to untold crimes that I didn't commit in order to facilitate prison in order to hide from getting killed by that Spectre. And instead I successfully escaped that prison with a notorious serial criminal.”

“Oh don't sugarcoat it too much, Variza, I know too well what I have done in my past. But didn't you forget? We stopped Saren, and we got pardoned. New leases on life. You built that company, I started teaching at Grissom. We became better people.”

“Yeah, a weapon's manufacturing company. Built on patents on stuff from the future given to me by Jump.”

“Well I wouldn't exactly say that's illegal just...really confusing.” She threw her hands up and tried chuckling.

“A weapon's manufacturing company. Weapons hurt people. And I proceeded to lie, undermine, blackmail, double-talk, and gaslight anyone with a fat enough wallet and resources to help me make more of these things, which may I remind you includes a cannon that fires nukes, something I'm pretty sure is banned by the Geneva Conventions by the way, all to get ready for a war that I basically profited off of. So that's a morally skewed occupation bolstered by corporate espionage, emotional manipulation, and at least twenty other bigger laws involving asari corporate culture I don't know about.”

“You mean the company you had blown to pieces to save our asses from Cerberus? Variza, please stop, you're being too hard on yourself,”

“The murder of Matriarch Benezia. Liara's mother.”

“That was a mercy killing. She was in pain.”

“And what about that asari Spectre? The one I just casually shot in the face like a sociopath?” I continued. Jack stopped mid-sentence and looked away.

“It didn't matter if she was working for the Shadow Broker. I...killed people. One who probably did her job well in keeping her part of the galaxy safe. And I just... popped her in the head. Blame the adrenaline, blame me wanting to not let the Broker destroy what I made but I did it. I then went on to be the figurehead of the Shadow Broker and continued to perpetuate a criminal empire, causing unknown suffering to even more people, all while hiding away in a bunker on some gas giant out of fear of getting killed by Reaper agents. So that's two acts of first degree murder, criminal conspiracy, and putting an army of meat shields in the way of reprisals.”

Jack remained silent. She tried to talk several times but stopped.

“Then...there's what I did at the Crucible.”

Jack's eyes lit up. “Variza, don't you dare put that on yourself.” she reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off.

“How many people died on that day? Do you have the exact numbers? Or how about our crew? Garrus? Tali? Wrex? Shepard? Can you answer me that?” My tone remained dry and practiced, my inner thoughts finally expressed.

“Jack...I sent Shepard to his death with what I did. He was an icon, a freaking legend that everyone should owe everything to, and I was the one who sent him to die. And who am I? No one. I've never held a weapon before, hell I despise killing and all of this psychological warfare nonsense! It churns my bloody stomach.” I felt my body shake, but I continued anyway.

“It doesn't matter what my intentions were. The law should still apply. If not the Council's then at least my own bloody code. And I broke it, time and again. Because it was easy, and because I wanted to live. I. Am. A Criminal. And I'm. A. Coward.”

I felt tears hit my arms. I started holding myself as they began to fall in earnest.

“Tell me...what am I if not a criminal? With more blood on my hands than anyone can ever understand? A maniac? A butcher? A...A...” I shut my eyes, unable to get the words out.

I felt something grab my hand.

“How about a friend?” her voice was soft. Softer than I ever heard from her.

“How about a liberator of the geth? I clearly remember you being surprised by that so...didn't happen in your games right?”

I looked up. Games...what games? Were there games?

“And...yeah, everything is terrible now but... everyone is still working to make it better. The Krogan are cured. The Quarians are getting a lot of support from the geth in order to resettle their homes. You have helped to do good here.”

“Jack...the cost...I don't.” She put her hand over my mouth and slowly broke into a wide smile.

“Also...there's something you have to see.”

And with some effort she got a hold of my wheelchair and moved me out of the room. Corridors flew by in a blur. Nurses and doctors took off after us in horror. Jack was barely staying upright, laughing through the pain as she leaned on the chair while keeping up with it. I held on in terror, not knowing exactly what to expect.

Finally she tripped and the chair went flying on its own. Out of pure instinct I tried slowing down, the sight of an observation deck coming closer and closer. After some effort I managed to stop the chair. But before I could look back to see if Jack was okay, I saw them.

The Normandy crew. Joker, Tali, Garrus...everyone who was with Shepard at the Citadel. Bedridden. Unconscious. Their bodies...infected with some sort of yellow energy. A side effect of the Crucible? Well, whatever it was, it had the doctor's stumped the way they were communicating with eachother. And in one separate corner...was Shepard. He was like the others...but alive.

I almost felt happy again after seeing it. Then the orderlies ran in and took me and Jack away. On the ride back I started laughing. Like I finally got the conclusion to the longest brick joke.

“Screw you fate!” I exclaimed, “So much for red, blue, or green you giant war-ending piece of crap!”

I was treated as delirious and given something to help me sleep, then sent back to my room.

I don't remember falling asleep, but when I came to I was back in my bed, a doctor sitting in a chair on the other end of the room. She was human, mixed caucasian-asian descent from what I could tell, and she was holding a datapad.

“Hello, Variza. I'm here to assist you with your mental and emotional recuperation and to help you cope with what you saw a little while ago.” She spoke courteously. I looked around and started shaking off the sedative

“Where's Jack?” I sat up in my bed as best as I could.

“Don't worry, she's safe. She made it quite hard for us to get her back to her room, but she doesn't appear to be contaminated.”

Suddenly the isolation made sense, “You have no idea what's going with that...energy. Radiation. Whatever the Crucible unleashed. Only that it seems to be keeping those exposed to it in a comatose like state. Right?”

“Officially we aren't allowed to tell patients but...yeah you're a smart girl. I like that.” The doctor smiled, “which reminds me, let me see if this is working properly,” she swiped and tapped several spots on her datapad.

I felt an odd pressure over my head, like a hundred small fingers gently pressing and searching all over it like a curious child. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, letting the reconstructive therapy do its work.

“Starting to feel more like yourself again, Variza?”

I nodded. “Without the singular threat of the Reapers keeping every single profile unified, I did kind of lose sight of who I was but these sessions here have helped wonderfully.”

“Then let's start with some questions then, see if the long-term and short-term memory is working properly.”

“Right. So let's start with the basics. Who are you? Where were you born? And how did you end up on the Citadel in 2181?”

I took several breaths and allowed the pathways of memory to come back to me, and I spoke.

“My name is Variza T'Som. Daughter to Maria Watson and Sira T'Som, colonists of Xiao's Ambition in the Horsehead Nebula. They were attacked by batarian slavers, then Saren arrived to escalate the conflict. They were caught in the crossfire. He called it justice and left with a job well done. So I kept my head down, got a shuttle out of there, worked here and there at other colonies picking up skills and engineering skills then decided to test out my new mech on a little personal revenge. Then...well you recall the trial. Guess all those little jobs in between caught up to me.”

The doctor frowned and checked the datapad again.

“Well...it's technically correct.”

I blinked. “What do you mean? It's my life, clear as day.”

“Then do you recall Maria's birthday? How they first met?”

“I...that's a very specific question and it's been well over a century since that happened.” My head started to ache.

“A century...and yet Saren was somehow responsible to their death?” She smiled.

My nerves started acting up. But before I could protest, the doctor changed the subject.

“It's alright, you're probably still working out the details, it's fine. But what's really intriguing is this little thing that keeps popping up. A Warehouse, and a warehouse key. Sound familiar?”

“Right...it's...an old-fashioned warehouse, that uses an antiquated key for unconventional security. A friend of mine loaned it to me for nothing when I was starting out T'Som Manufacturing. Great for testing out and storing new inventory.” I grinned. That seemed right.

“So tell me how were you able to pull stuff from it from within a dinner party with Donovan Hock?”

I groaned. “I...well...there was a pack and...it was lined to mess with security so...” My head started swimming again. “Um...I'm sorry I didn't quite catch your name. Doctor...?”

“You can call me Jump.”

“Right, Doctor Jump. These questions are a little too hard for me right now so can we try something else?”

Jump. Jumper. Warehouse. Spark. Quest.

Those five words rattled in my head for a while. Like remembering the old lyrics to a long forgotten nursery rhyme. Wait a minute...how did I get this key? I turned to my left hand, only to see it in my hand. I gasped and dropped it in surprise.

“Oh dear,” Doctor Jump sighed, “Somehow I knew this was going to happen. SAM and the geth kept your memories and your profile, but edited and changed it. Most likely to retain what could 'logically be feasible.' And yet they accepted the spatial screwery that your Warehouse did. Figure that out why dontcha.” She then got up and sat on the bed next to me.

“I don't have much time left and sadly there's only so much I can do so... I'm going to ask you a big question, and how you choose to answer it will determine the future. Alright?”

I nodded.

“This world you're in, this galaxy, this universe, isn't the only one. It is one of untold millions. All filled with fantastic and unbelievable wonders. Mindbending technology, alien architecture, things that can only be described as magic. But also filled with dangers and challenges, some that will destroy the lesser minds of others with a mere thought, others will make you beg for something as simple as death.  
“But somewhere out there, is the power of an Old Spark. Something that if obtained, would allow you to do...anything. Also out there is a universe with a single habitable world. A simple world with simple residents. One where you can live a quiet and simple life. So... my question is were you given the option, what would you do? Stay here and recover in this small hospital and fully accept the consequences of your actions? Leave to go into this larger and grander world to have a chance at having your every wish granted? Or, do you wish to escape to this simpler humble existence?”

This seemed to be one hell of a hypothetical. My first thought was the simple life but...then I'd be abandoning the Normandy crew. And Shepard. And Jack. Wait...any wish granted? That could include a cure for this phenomena. A restoration of the Mass Relay network. I could...fix everything. But the horrors, the trials, the pain, the ordeals...

It's what you're fighting for....

“If I had the choice...I'd go for this Spark you mentioned,” I said after a while. “I may be a criminal, but I am a criminal who still wants to set things right.”

Then Doctor Jump quickly got up and cheered! Fist pumped in the air and she let out of an excited shriek of glee! It actually frightened me. What happened? What did I say!?

“Yes!! I knew you were still rattling around in there somewhere! And you just said the magic words! Congratulations! You completed the first link in your Jump Chain! Magnificent!! Magnificent!!!” She exclaimed.

I had so many questions. But then...I didn't need them answered. It all came rushing back to me. The offer at the Cybertavern, the warehouse key, the challenge, my human life, my friends, everything. As clear as my plain pinkish forearms right in front of me. I was me again! I was human!

“I...oh my gosh. Holy shit!” I started cheering as well. Putting my hands through my hair, stepping out of the bed with my fully mended limbs. Testing out my...well cut and impressive physical figure? Wait that's not right.

“Hey, you put in the work when Shepard trained you, way I see it you keep that bod, tits or not.” Jump responded to my confusion.

I took a couple practice kicks at the air and shadowboxed a bit. Perfect. Thank you Jump.

“Right, and now that this is all said and done, time to look over your sheet and get your final preparations ready to move onwards.” Jump spoke more calmly this time, handing me an official looking piece of paper. Embroidered with bright cyan engravings and a bit of gold leaf on the edges. It was... basically a character sheet. But instead of stats it showed things like items like the credits I had at the beginning or the footlocker full of weapons. That and everything else had values attached to them. Including....

“Drawbacks?” I asked.

“Yeah, about that. Every world needs to challenge or press you, so if I think it's going to be boring, I throw some curveballs your way. But you get more to spend on so it evens out. Then I block out your memory before the adventure begins so you can't meta it.” Jump shrugged, “it's only fair.”

I wanted to hit her so hard. The Reaper's obession with me wasn't exactly something I'd call fair. But then I looked over the numbers again. Something isn't right. There was still some points leftover. I brought this up to her.

“Oh. That's so you can have a companion.” she replied,  
“A companion. Like how the Doctor has one so he...” my voice trailed off.  
“Doesn't become completely detached from humanity? Yes.” She finished my sentence.  
“But...why? Why do you care?”  
“Oh my dear Jumper. I'm not some cold unfeeling machine of calculations and rigid reason. I do care about those who take this sort of challenge...in my own way,” She added that last part after I raised an eyebrow.  
I felt a warmth rise up in me. I knew exactly who to pick.  
“Ah. But a word of warning,” Jump intoned, “though your companion will obtain power and skills while by your side, their fate shall be the same as yours. They die, they go home, alright?”

I hesitated at first. But then I nodded.  
“Right, so whose it gonna be?”

I knocked on the door to Jack's room and offered my hand. When she answered she did a double take.

“Uhh who the hell are y-?”

“Wanna go on an adventure, Jack? See the multiverse, figure out how to solve this weird outbreak? See me when I don't have blue skin and robots shooting at me?” My voice was light, barely restrained by my excitement.

“I...Variza? Is...that you?” She sized me up. I wanna say she approved by the way her jaw dropped.

“In the human flesh. So...what do you say? Adventure, excitement, stuff you can bring back to help this world heal from its ordeal.” I gave her a knowing smirk with that last comment. Her eyes began to light up, the revelation hitting her.

She took my hand. “Yeah,”

And I pulled her into the threshold from her room into my Warehouse.

“Holy shit...it's big.”

“Yep, and apparently it's gonna be getting some renovations very very soon. So, let's see your room. We got a week to ourselves before our next stop.” I said, gesturing to several robots as they moved the last of my weapons and my Kodiak shuttle to storage.  
“I...wow” Jack finally said after starting several times.

“Yeah...wow.” I turned to the threshold and took one last look at the hospital. I'm coming back Shepard, you and the others are going to be fine. I promise.

“Goodbye world of Mass Effect,” I closed the door and pulled out my Warehouse key, causing the doorway to vanish and just leaving me inside the Warehouse, “And hello...everywhere else,”

One Week Later...

Jack stepped out of the shower and looked over her expansive wardrobe contained within the otherwise mundane looking closet. She couldn't help but try out several looks while listening to some techno music on the player. She had to hand it to Blue or Jump or whoever, they made this place feel like she never left the Milky Way Galaxy. After a while, she finally settled on her look, at least she did until she realized the multiple bracelets and chokers were a bit much. She removed them and threw them on the bed.

But as she turned to throw them down, she noticed something else on the bed. A ball, about the size of a tangerine. It was made of some smooth plastic material, and was colored red and white. She had never seen it before.

“What the hell is this?” She mumbled to herself. The ball then opened with a flash of brilliant white light....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this epilogue included the Perks, Items, and Drawbacks I had taken from the original fan-created Mass Effect Jump that started this whole debacle, but for the sake of readability, I had this removed.
> 
> Nevertheless, thank you to the tg Drive and the creatives there who helped start this mad mad thing.
> 
> Next Jump...will be Pokemon. See you there!


End file.
